


Realisations

by sparrow2000



Series: Perceptions 'verse [3]
Category: BtVS - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:26:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 98,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow2000/pseuds/sparrow2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his roadtrip Xander arrives back in Sunnydale. His friends have just started their college lives and our boy has gone through a lot of changes while he's been on his road trip.  This is my alternate Buffy S4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Realisations: Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third and final big story in the Perceptions 'verse series. There are a few one-shots lurking about as well!
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : Joss and Mutant Enemy et al own all. I own nothing and make no profit from this story  
> Any music referenced in this story is done so with the greatest respect for the composer. Again, no profit is made.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: This story is slash, so make an assumption that you will encounter boy/boy action. I will warn specifically on individual chapters if there is anything other than slash that might upset people. Also Spike tends to have a bit of a mouth on him when he's upset, so there will be a sprinkling of profanity from time to time!**
> 
>  
> 
>  **Beta extraordinaire** : [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)**thismaz**  
> 

_  
**Realisations: Prologue**   
_   


So here we are – Home Sweet Hellmouth. I can’t work out if I’m happy to see the sign or not. After 3 months on the road, ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ should conjure up all sorts of warm fuzzies, but it kind of does the opposite. No one’s really welcome here, unless they’re planning to start the next apocalypse – then they get a $10 tour, complementary street map and a bar tab at Willy’s. That’s until Buffy kicks their ass. Most people in Sunnydale are just kind of tolerated. So long as they keep the blinkers on, and don’t think too hard, then people get by – until they fall on the nearest BBQ fork. It’s funny, once I knew about the nightlife I wondered why more folk didn’t just up sticks and keep going. But it’s like that Eagles song – ‘you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.’ Yeah, well every good cliché is there for a reason and I think their tour bus must have done a pit stop at the Sunnydale Hilton on their way to somewhere with more drugs and less vamps. It’s like there’s something magnetic in the water and we keep being pulled back, no matter how hard we try, but I’ve never been one for rules and I’m determined to buck the trend.

I feel like I’ve learned so much in these last few months. I’ve learned how big the US really is; that I didn’t realise I got vertigo, until I stood on the edge of the Grand Canyon – funny how rollercoasters never had the same effect; that there are some towns in Tennessee where you can practically hear the banjo music when you walk into a diner. I’ve learned that Nasalos demons in San Francisco like to groove to Prince and that Crombec demons are big with the honour, so long as it involves large wads of cash. I’ve learned that vampires can love.

Isn’t that the kicker? Me on a road trip with Spike, William the Bloody himself, who taught me about fighting and fucking and being the fox, before we’d even left Sunnydale and has taught me so much since. He showed me how to stroke a man just right, behind his balls, if you want him to turn into a shuddering mess. He taught me that it’s okay to like giving up control and just let things happen. He let me drive and introduced me to The Clash and Iggy Pop and made me realise that you could be into The Ramones and Gershwin, because what the hell’s it got to do with anyone else? That’s Spike - schizophrenic, ADD, century plus dead guy, and I still can’t believe I spent a month road tripping with him. Even after two months on my own, I can’t believe he let me go. I can’t believe I let him.

So now I’m back and I’m tempted to turn tail, right now, and run while I still can, because I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do. I’m not going to be college guy and there just aren’t the budding executive career opportunities in fast food these days. I meant what I said to Spike, that I couldn’t stay here long term, but I need to go back and see them, see my friends.

I have to keep reminding myself that they’re my friends, because for the last hundred miles the thought of talking to them has terrified me. I know I can’t tell them about what we got up to in San Francisco and Roswell and at The Alamo; they wouldn’t understand. They know where I went, because I sent the postcards, but even so, I know Willow put a tracking spell on me. I found out from a Warlock in Reno and boy was I pissed off. All it did was tell her I was alive and roughly where I was, but it’s the principle of the thing. God knows what kind of hue and cry the gang would raise, if they knew I’d been with Spike when I wrote the cards. They wouldn’t have got, why we were together and they definitely wouldn’t have got, why we split up.

I haven’t quite decided how to tackle the whole 'putting spells on people without permission' deal, but I know I’m going to have to bring it up, before she decides to do something else for my own good, like take Spike out of the picture the minute he raises his bleached head above the parapet. Because they’re going to find out. It’s only a matter of time, because the things I’ve learned mean too much to hide. I know I’ve changed and they’re going to notice, eventually. One way or another, it’s going to come out. So I guess it needs to be on my terms. Now I just have to figure out exactly what those terms are.


	2. Realisations: Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander hangs out at the Bronze and checks out the bench

**Realisations 1: Limbo**

God, it feels so weird being back at the Bronze. Like I’m looking into a snow globe or something, seeing all the little figures through frosted glass. Everything seems so much duller and older and more tired, and the kids on the dance floor look so much younger than I remember. Maybe I time travelled these last 3 months, ‘cause I feel completely out of place and have no idea what the hell I’m doing here. I think I’ll just grab a quick drink, check out the dark corners for any action and see if there’s anyone here that I recognise, though I don’t suppose there will be. Half my class are in college, so wouldn’t be hanging round here and the other half got killed at Graduation, and that’s so not the happy thought. Shit, I really don’t know why the hell I came back to Sunnydale. Some stupid idea about closure and needing to see things with clear eyes before I make the move to leave, so I know I’m doing the right thing. Christ, I’m babbling in my head, so much for grown up. Spike would laugh like hell, if he could hear me.

Whoa, now that was just strange - think about Spike and all of a sudden Angel appears. But it’s not Angel, just a look alike, so deep breaths, no need to panic. Anyway, that guy looks like he’s actually having a good time, so no way could it be Angel. Must tell Spike when I see him. That’s if he keeps his promises and comes back, and I’m so going to do something nasty to his bleach mix if he doesn’t.

And my life just gets stranger and stranger, I think about one blonde and there’s another one right there. Okay, got to start somewhere – carpe diem and all that shite, as Spike would say. I take a deep breath and ease through the crowd by the bar, until I get to one of the tables in the corner and there she is.

“The whole world in front of her and she comes back to this dive.” Well, that got her attention.

“Xander!”

“Hey Buff.” I’m grinning at her, rocking back on my heels and she looks so small, it’s kind of weird to remember she can break me like a twig.

“When did you get back?”

“Couple of days ago.”

“You freak of nature, why didn’t call me.” She’s on her feet now, hands on hips and if she wasn’t grinning back at me, I think I might even be scared.

“Well I knew you guys were starting the whole college adventure and I didn’t want to, um, you know….help you move!” I take a quick step back for self preservation as she comes out from behind the table, but she’s got Slayer speed and suddenly we’re standing toe to toe and I think it’s time for a diversion before I get a slap round the head. “And I was doing the whole parental bonding thing, only not. Can you believe they moved my stuff into the basement and want me to pay rent?”

“That’s terrible. What you going to do?” Oh yes, go for the sympathy vote, it works every time.

“Not move into the basement, that’s for sure. I’m just going to stay in a motel for a little bit, ‘til I get my Sunnydale legs again. I’ve had lots of motel living practice over the last 3 months, so it’ll be kind of like home from home.”

She tilts her head to the side and looks up at me and I wonder what she’s thinking, then she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me lightly on the cheek and just for a moment I feel like I’m 16 again. “I missed you. How was your trip? Is America nice? I hear it’s nice.”

“There’s some purple mountains majesty, I’m going to have to say.”

What’d you do? What’d you see?

“Well I could just let you read my diary, but then I’d have to kill you and that just wouldn’t be pretty. I didn’t get quite as far as Hawaii, but did hit some of the high spots in most of the other states. Went to San Francisco, and Roswell and Reno and Phoenix and Yuma – missed the train there. Oh and Denver and Paris and Bangkok. You name it, I bought gas in it.”

“Wow, you did cover some ground.” She pauses for a moment and I can practically hear the wheels spinning in her head. “Hang on a minute, buster. I might be blonde, but I’m not completely dizzy. Even I know that Paris and Bangkok aren’t in the US.”

“Sorry, Buff, there’s a Paris in Texas, even made a movie about it. But yeah, I was pulling your leg about the last one. Just flexing my gag muscles, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I really have missed you. I could do with a little bit of a humour injection right now.”

“What’s the problem – Slayer stuff, or personal stuff?”

“Kind of both. College is fine, but it’s just kind of overwhelming, you know? And there was this vampire…” She pauses for a moment, biting her lip and she’s got one hand curled round her waist like she’s trying to hold herself together by sheer force of will. “She took me down and I don’t know how to stop her. What if I can’t cut it anymore? The college thing, and the slaying thing. What if I fail?”

“Buffy, you’re not going to fail. And if you fall over a bit, then you’ve got friends to pick you up and dust you down. That’s what friends do.” God, she looks so young all of a sudden and I can’t believe I’m giving a pep talk to the Slayer. “You know, I’ve gone through some pretty dark times in my life, faced some scary things, including my mom’s attempts at cooking, but when it’s dark and I’m all alone and I’m scared, I always think – what would Buffy do? You’re a hero, Buff. It’s in your nature. So you’ll get through this, okay?

“When did you get all wise and inspirational?”

“I learned a bunch of stuff, while I was away, and it’s made me look at things a bit differently. I mean, I could make a lame joke about being alone in the dark and thinking about what you were wearing, but hey, mature man of the world here. It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, you’ll still be a hero.”

“Wow, you have changed haven’t you? Maybe I should go on a road trip myself.

“Maybe you should, but let’s get college under your belt first. So first up on the agenda – let’s go kick some skanky vamp ass.”

*******************************************

Well, that was a hell of a way to get back together with the gang. I didn’t expect to be clearing out a vamp nest almost as soon as I got back into town, but I should have known better. A night at the Bronze followed by a Sunnydale special. It’s kind of comforting in an odd way, that some things never change. Like me, sitting here in the dark, on the bench, talking to myself. The brass plaque looks a bit duller than I remember, guess Tom and Lavinia haven’t got any family left in town. I hope they did the sensible thing and decided to leave, but I kind of doubt it. It’s strange, to be sitting back here – the last time seems a hell of a long time ago, but I can picture all the events since then, like someone’s playing a movie. It’s like it all really started here. Sitting, thinking about my life, after what Faith did, Spike offering me whisky from his hipflask and taking me back to warehouse. I wonder if it was always going to happen the way it did, whether sitting on this bench was like pushing a pebble off a mountain.

But now, it’s like I’ve stalled. Like I’m in some kind of Limbo. I can’t go back to who I was before, but I’m still working out how to be the person I’ve turned into, like I’m wearing a skin that doesn’t quite fit yet. So for now, I’m here, I’ve seen the gang briefly, but we were really too busy trying to say alive to exchange confidences, and now I’m back on the bench, waiting for something to happen. I don’t know if I really expected Spike to be here. He’s not psychic; he wouldn’t know that I’d be here. Okay, I sent the postcards, care of the Crombec demon, so he could track my progress, if he wanted, but he couldn’t know exactly when I’d be back in town. And he couldn’t know that I’d be here, right now. So I’ve got no right to be disappointed.

Anyway, so much for being the new, shiny, grown up Harris, Mark II. Sitting in the park, in the dark, on the Hellmouth, is just asking for trouble. And not the kind of trouble that I want. Maybe he’ll be here tomorrow, or the next day. Maybe I could leave him a note or something. I scrabble around in my backpack for a pen and a scrap of paper and my hand curls round a small scrap of cardboard and I can’t help smiling. A postcard, how appropriate. The last card that I didn’t get around to sending. Picked it up in Oxnard on my way through, but when I went to write in it, I realised that sending a postcard from Oxnard was probably the lamest thing ever. It’s not like I actually stopped and saw the sights or anything. I did like this card though. It’s got a view of the cemetery where Lee Van Cleef is buried – how cool is that?

 _Hey Spike_

 _Thought I’d write you one last card. Got back into town a couple of days ago, and saw the gang tonight. Didn’t have time to chat much, what with the vampire killage and all. I’m meeting the girls for coffee after their classes tomorrow, and then I’ll swing by again – give Tom and Lavinia a bit of a polish. Hope to see you around. If you’re around? Umm, I’ll be around. And I’ll stop now, before I get dizzy. Hope you like the card.  
X_

I wedge the card under the edge of the plaque and stare at it for a minute and then shiver. I’ve got the strangest feeling of déjà vu and any minute now I’m sure there’s a fox going to come out of the undergrowth. But there’s nothing. Just the wind, swishing gently through the trees and the sounds of a house alarm going off in the far distance. Time to be inside. Time to be out of the dark. I run my finger across the edge of the card and then turn away and walk quickly across the park. Got to get some sleep now. I’ll go fox hunting tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue respectfully pilfered from The Freshman by Joss Whedon


	3. Realisations 2: Foundations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander tracks down his fox

_**Realisations 2: Foundations**_  
My boy’s such a treat. All long bones and muscle and smooth, tanned skin, making up such a pretty package. He’s not quite put them all together yet, like he’s still taking baby steps in his brand new form, but he’s almost there. Almost. Just a bucket of confidence and a couples of ounces of pride and he’ll be done. Show them all what he showed me while he was away. All that power rising to the surface and there won’t be anywhere he can’t go. He just needs to accept it. To accept himself

Saw him last night, sitting on the bench muttering to himself and writing the card. Did he really think I wouldn’t know the minute he crossed the town line? Sending a postcard, in case I wanted to know he was back. Bloody hell, did he honestly believe I wouldn’t be around? Tracked him through 9 states over the last 2 months, just to keep an eye on things. Said that I’d let him fly and I did. Didn’t say I wouldn’t make sure he was safe, while he had his adventures. There were so many times I nearly said 'bugger it' and came clean with him, especially when he had a run in with some rednecks outside Memphis. But he managed them fine. Had them eating out of his hand, by the time he was finished. It was kind of funny, sitting reading all the postcards I collected from the Crombec when I got back to Sunnydale, seeing what my boy thought was important about each place, when I’d been watching it all from a distance. And I notice he didn’t say one word about his little bit of excitement in Tennessee. Don’t suppose he’ll mention it to his little gang either. So he’s back on the Hellmouth and that’s fine, for now.

I’m sitting in the dark in the warehouse where it all began and he’s coming to me. Laid my breadcrumb trail so well and like any cub, he won’t resist the lure of treats to come. Once I get him back in my sights, I’m never letting him go again.

“Spike? Spike, you there?”

I knew he was on the way. Could smell his scent on the breeze for the last two blocks, all sweet and hot and just a hint of anxious. Good job he hasn’t got my nose, ‘cause I reckon the last one is coming off me in waves.

“Spike? ‘The Third Man’ routine is getting old, so if you’re here, show yourself already.”

I slide out from the shadows and slink towards him, flicking the Zippo open and lighting a fag as I go, and I hear a sharp hitch in his breath as my footsteps echo in the empty space and I wonder if it’s excitement or fear, or maybe something in between. He’s standing near the door, framed by the light at his back and he’s so fucking gorgeous that I want to shove him up against the wall right now and screw his brains out. But that’s for later, suppose I’d better at least say hello first.

“Well, pet, see you got back all safe and sound. How’d you get on with the good old U.S of A? See the sights? Knock down a few furry animals? Visit a few novelty museums?”

He’s standing watching me and it’s as if he’s looking for clues about what to do next. Know the bloody feeling. I take another drag of my cigarette and watch him, eyebrow raised and one thumb hooked into a belt loop. It’s all an act.

Suddenly he grins and shakes his head, and it looks like he’s worked it out. “Well, answering in order: got on just fine, yes, no and you really need to ask? I saw the giant Superman in Metropolis, Illinois and you’d have loved the big graffiti rock in Iowa. You could probably have told me what some of the words actually meant!”

“Bet I could at that, pet. Big rock – probably the only interesting thing to see in Iowa.”

He raises one hand and waves a paper bag in my direction. “Thanks for the brownies. I’m assuming they were from you? Unless there’s some brownie fairy I haven’t come across, leaving chocolaty goodness in people’s cars?”

“Thought you might want something sweet for breakfast, pet. Saw your car sitting there and it seemed the thing to do at the time. Considered delivering them by hand, but knowing what time you normally wake up, I didn’t think you’d want dust on your chocolate. And for the record, Brownie’s are a type of Scottish fairy. Right little buggers, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of them; they’re definitely not as sweet as their namesake.”

He’s standing there, bag in one hand and the other dug deep in the pocket of his jeans, and I can almost see him mentally filing the information. “Right, I’ll remember that.” Then he tilts his head to the side, smiles and cocks an eyebrow. “So blondie, did you miss me?”

He’s trying for confident, but there’s a hint of a quiver in the back of his throat and it’s enough to shatter the impasse. I toss the cigarette on the ground and grind it under my heel, before closing the gap and hooking my fingers into the front of his belt. His eyes are huge and he’s vibrating gently under my hands.

“Yeah, I think I can probably say that you were missed. Liked the postcards - hearing about all the places you’d seen and what you were up to, but it’s not the same as hearing it in person. Bet you’ve got a few tales to tell, yeah?”

“Maybe just a few. If you want to hear them? I don’t want to bore you?”

Christ, that means the little chickies didn’t pay attention, when he talked to them about his doings. Their fucking loss. “Don’t think you’ll ever do that, pet.”

The smile is back and it makes my unbeating heart flip over like I’m a sodding girl, but right now I don’t really care. “Want to get comfy, love? Still got the mattresses and there’s some blankets from last time.”

“Yeah, comfy would be good. Maybe then we’d stop doing this awkward, 'not sure what to do' stuff and get back to normal.”

There’s so much subtext to that statement, but I let it go for a minute and take the bag out of his hand, curl my fingers around his wrist and start to walk deeper into the warehouse. And he can’t help but follow. I toss the bag onto the floor by the mattress and let him gather his thoughts while I light a few candles. Love seeing him by candlelight – watching the shadows flicker across his face, reflecting how complicated he really is. By the time I’m done, he’s spread one of the blankets over the mattress and is perched on the edge, like he’s not sure what to do next.

Right then, time for a little encouragement. I sink down beside him, our hips just touching, but still giving him space. I want to jump his bones, but I know this is too important to brush aside. “And what normal is that, love? Lots of normals to choose from”

“My normal? Our normal? I don’t know. Remember you told me, sometimes you have to say 'fuck it' and jump off the ledge and create a new normal? That’s what I want.”

I rest back on my elbows and look up at him. “Then do it, love. Create your own normal. It’s for you to decide, no one else.”

“And if I want some help in making it happen?”

“Then you’re going to need to recruit the best. No point in getting in some fly by night. If you’re going to build something to last, you’ve got to make sure the foundations are secure. Needs someone with experience, for that kind of job. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He studies me intently for a moment and then it’s like his expression flickers from grownup to teenager, in the blink of an eye, and I feel my face itching to change with him. This boy has so much depth and I love that I never know what’s coming next. His lips twitch as I watch him and he scratches his head, as if he’s thinking hard. “Hmm, I wonder where I can find someone with that kind of experience? Maybe I need to get the local paper, see who’s advertising. What do you think?”

Okay, joking - I can do that, seems the serious moment is about passed. “I think you’ve been away too long and need reminding of your manners. Maybe I should put you over my knee?”

I’m expecting blushes, but he surprises me again. “Maybe later.” There’s a smile that’s full of promise and I really am going to hold him to that. “But seriously, I know we’ve had this conversation before and I was so sure back then, but now I’m back here and I feel like I don’t fit. And I don’t understand it. I had a great time catching up with the girls over coffee, but now that I’m away from them I realise we were just talking, we weren’t really saying anything, you know? And I was starting to tell jokes and goof about and I wanted to make myself to stop. Is it me, or is it them, or is it this place?”

“Big questions, love. You’ve got the whole nature/nurture debate going on. Is that your personality, or do they make you like that? Or, as you say, is it being back in Sunnydale that triggers all those learned behaviours? You’re asking hard questions, pet, and I don’t have any easy answers. The only thing I can say is that, just because you’re changing in your head, doesn’t mean you have to throw out everything from the past. There’s a reason you joked and goofed your way through life – it worked for you then. Now you’ve grown up a bit and other things are going to work for you, but you don’t have to stop joking. Just don’t make it your first reaction, unless it’s what’s needed, yeah?”

“Yes, Obi Wan.”

“Git.”

“So, do I get a welcome home kiss?”

“I think we could arrange that. Come here.” He leans towards me and I run my finger down the side of his face. “Welcome back, Xan. You’ve been missed.” His lips are so close and I can feel his breath, warm on my face.

“Missed you too, blondie.” There’s a delicate flutter of soft skin on skin. Butterfly kisses, tentative and sweet, like we’re both still unsure of our welcome. I pull him towards me, and after all this time, he’s back lying beside me and I roll over ‘til I’m gazing down at him, watching a hundred expressions dance across his face. And I feel almost shy. But he can read me so well and he reaches up and pulls me towards him, cradling the back of my head with one, big hand and I’m lost as his tongue pushes in and I push back and tumble into his heat. He tastes so bloody good and I can’t believe I voluntarily gave up this sensation, these last 2 months.

I feel as if we’ve been kissing for hours, when he finally comes up for air and brushes his lips lightly across the scar in my eyebrow. “This is what I want. This normal. I’d rather it wasn’t in a grotty warehouse, but it doesn’t matter where we are, this is my normal.”

I run my finger over his swollen lips and feel more at peace than I’ve felt in months. “Well love, seems I’m just the vamp for the job. So what do you say, we start laying those foundations?”


	4. Realisations 3: Works In Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Xander play a game and Xander asks a question

_**Realisations 3: Works In Progress**_  
It’s so strange, if I could go back in time to that first night in the warehouse, with his pain and his tears and my fantasies of having him at my feet, I wonder if I’d recognise the moment? We’re back in the same place, at the scene of the crime, but I almost feel like it happened to someone else. Yeah, I’m still a vampire, that’s kind of a given, but he’s made me change in so many ways. Started from the centre and wormed his way through every scrap of bone and muscle, ‘til I feel like he’s turned me inside out. Like being reborn. Like being turned, except not. My boy’s not like Dru or Angelus; they wanted to change me, mould me, make me into their image. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t even know the power he has. He’s worrying about his own changes and he has no fucking clue what he’s done to me. And that’s why I’m still here. He’s talking about foundations and as I lie here in this dingy warehouse, I pray to anyone who would listen to a thing like me, that we’re not building on quicksand.

“Hey.” His finger runs along my collar bone, making me shiver and I look into his eyes and start to drown again. “You’d gone off somewhere. I was beginning to think you were getting bored.” There’s a laugh in his voice, but it hides a little thread of uncertainty, lurking under the surface, and I realise that I have to focus. I’m not going to screw this up now. Not after all this time.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get bored, pet. Told you that before. Got so much here to keep me interested, yeah?” I flick my tongue along my bottom lip and leer at him, playing the image to the hilt and there’s a mixture of lust and amusement flickering across his face. Oh yes, my boy knows me too damn well. My fingers start to tiptoe down the front of his T-shirt and I pause briefly over one pert nipple and his breath hitches.

“Think you’re a little over dressed, pet. I know it’s cold in here, but I’m sure we can find something to do, to keep you nice and warm.” He smiles at me and his eyes are shining with mischief.

“Oh yeah, so what do you have in mind? A game or something?”

“That’s right. How about a little game of strip blackjack?”

“And you just happen to have some cards with you?”

“Well I’ve got some in the car, but I’m too comfy to go and get them.” He opens his mouth for the inevitable comeback, but I’m right there before he can start. “Doesn’t matter though, an experienced player doesn’t actually need the cards to play. I can see them in my head, so I can tell you exactly what cards you’re being dealt.”

He’s on his side, head propped up with one tanned hand and the other hand is drumming riffs on the thin blanket. “Right then, so let me get this straight, you want me to play strip blackjack, with an imaginary deck of cards, and you’ll tell me what cards I’ve been dealt? I kind of think you’ve seen Guys and Dolls one to many times. At least Big Julie actually had some dice.”

Knew he caught on quick. “Yeah, well my name’s not Julie, pet. And I’ve got some class; don’t need any props to play a good game.”

He’s looking at me sceptically and then laughs. “Yeah, I bet you don’t. Go on then, you can tell me how I’m doing with the first hand.”

“Looks like you lost, love. So the shirt will have to go.” He shakes his head in mock resignation and sits up, sliding his T-shirt up and over his head and there’s all that bare skin glowing in the candlelight. Fucking lovely.

“Suppose we need another play?”

“Did it already, while you were taking off your shirt. You had 15 and asked for another card and it took you over. Sorry about that, pet. Luck’s obviously not being a lady for you tonight.”

“Wow, imaginary cards, telepathic gambling and gratuitous musical references – we must be back in Sunnydale.” He grins at me and I rake my eyes down the length of his legs, just lingering for a moment over his crotch, but as I’m waiting for his jeans to disappear, he leans forward and pulls off his sneakers and socks and waggles his eyebrows at me. “Don’t think there’s anything in the strip blackjack rulebook that says what order things have to come off in, is there? Unless we’re back to Spike’s special handbook?”

Little bugger. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, just this once. I dealt another hand while you were getting rid of the shoes and I think you’re rubbing off on me, pet.” Now there’s an image. “My turn to go bust.”

“Well, I guess the duster will have to go then. Unless you want to lose something else and keep the duster on?”

“Ooh, kinky, love. Need to explore that sometime. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the spanking comment either.” I slip off my duster, lay it carefully on the other mattress, turn back to him and he’s shifted onto his stomach and I can see all the muscles in his back moving under his skin. He’s peering up at me though a too long fringe and his eyes are full of laughter. I wonder for a moment what we’re doing playing this game, when we could be getting right down to the good stuff, then I catch his eye again and realise that this is the good stuff, right here, laughing with him and sharing time and warmth and memories, with the promise of so much more to come.

“I took the initiative and dealt, while you were putting the coat to bed, and I’m afraid your winning streak is over. Something else will have to go.”

“Hmm, could accuse you of cheating, pet, but a fine upstanding lad like you wouldn’t do something like that, I’m sure.” I hook my thumbs under the bottom of my shirt and start to pull it up and I can hear his heart beating faster. I tease him with the slow drag of black cotton over white skin, and I know he’s just itching to touch. The shirt flies in the general direction of the duster and as I lower my arm, my nails graze lightly across a nipple and his breath hitches again as he studies me, mesmerised.

I smile at him and he’s watching me like a kid in a candy store and it’s nice to know I’ve still got the moves. “I’m going to predict that you’re going to crash and burn with the next hand, pet. So why don’t you get to the penalty now and save us some time?”

His eyes are almost black as he watches me, and then he smiles, and Dru’s kitten is nowhere to be seen. He’s pure big cat, as he rolls on his back and pops the buttons at his fly. Hips canted for a moment and he pulls his jeans down and off in one smooth movement and kicks them to the bottom of the mattress. He’s all laid out before me, like an all you can eat buffet and I don’t think I’ll ever be hungry again.

“Well, pet, going commando? You were sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

“Thought I’d take some lessons from the boys scouts and be prepared.”

“Is that right? So, let’s see if we can earn you a new badge tonight?”

“I think I’m going for extra merit, but if you’re going to tutor me, you need to be in the right uniform.”

“Very true, love. Wouldn’t want to be inappropriately dressed.”

He does a little shimmy and his cock is lying, half filled, against his thigh and suddenly I’m tired of the games and I’m tired of waiting and I make quick work of my boots, and my jeans follow and I’m so damn hard.

I crawl over to him and for a moment we just stare at each other, then I lean down and lick a long stripe up his cock and his hips spasm as they follow my tongue. “Tasty, pet. Was getting peckish and you’re just such a tasty treat.” He’s breathing hard as my tongue continues its journey, tracing a trail up his stomach, mapping out every contour, ‘til it reaches pert pink nipples and I stop and gnaw lightly on one, and then the other, and he’s making such pretty noises. “Very nice, love. Vamp could get diabetic with all this sweetness.”

I’m working my way up his neck, tongue flicking across his pulse point and I almost miss the whisper: “Spike?”

“What is it, pet?”

“I want….” I’ve got one hand toying with a nipple and the other scratching at his scalp and as I shift my hips, my cock drags the length of his and I think he’s lost the capacity to speak.

“What is it love? Tell Spike what you want?”

His eyes are huge as he looks up at me and he shudders under my touch as he opens his mouth. “I want you to bite me. Please?”

My hands are frozen in place and I just stare down at him. “Xander, love?”

“Please. It’s not for kicks, or curiosity, I’ve thought about it for weeks. I can’t tell you what’s in my head. I haven’t got the words. But maybe you could taste it. I want to show you how I feel. Please? I need to show you.” There’s nothing but trust in his eyes and so much want and need, and my head’s swimming at his pleading. This is what I wanted. Throughout our trip, I wanted this and I made myself wait, needing him to ask me. Finally, one of my plans has come to fruition and I’m almost lost for words.

The silence hangs in the air between us and I can feel him holding his breath under my hand and then he whispers, “Spike, you don’t have to. Not if you don’t want to.” The uncertainty is back and I swoop down and crush it with a kiss, trying to put every emotion into one sweet tangle of lips and teeth and tongues.

“’Course I want to, love. Just can’t believe you’re asking me. Don’t ever think I don’t want you. I want every bit of you I can get.”

His eyes are bright with tears and suddenly I know exactly what I need to do. I kiss him again, just brushing over his lips and then lean over and haul a battered tube of lube out of my jeans. “So you trust me, pet?” He nods, but I almost see the question right on the tip of his tongue, so I kiss him again. “Sssh, trust me.”

I shimmy back ‘til I’m straddling his knees and start to drizzle some lube over his cock and he shivers as the cool liquid hits heated skin. I’ve got one hand stroking up and down his length and the other, one finger at a time, burrowing into my own backside. Been a long time since I’ve done this and I’ve forgotten just how good it feels. I’m spreading slick around his balls and he’s heavy in my hand, making little whimpering noises of sheer need by the time I get to three fingers, and if I don’t go now he’s not going to wait for me. I crawl forward ‘til I’m hovering right over him and then sink slowly down, inch by heavenly inch, on to his lovely warm prick. “Oh pet, you feel so damn good.”

He’s just staring at me, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing and I lean down and push my hands under his shoulders and pull him up towards me, ‘til I’m seated in his lap and he’s got those big hands running up and down the length of my back.

“Can’t believe you’d do that. That you’d actually let me in.” His voice is full of wonder and I want to thank whoever listened to the prayers of an evil soulless beast.

“Always let you in, pet. Missed you, Xan. Missed your warmth and your voice and your taste. Going to taste you completely, pet. Going to learn everything about you. By the time I’m done you’ll not be able to hide from me, love. Got you inside me like this, and once it’s complete, I’m never letting you go again.”

I reach back and guide his hands forward onto my hips and start to rock. And I concentrate on the sound of his breath and his heart and his whisperings, as nonsense words tumble from his lips. Faster now and we’re kissing again, tongues stroking and sucking and I feel like I’m being fucked from both ends. Faster and faster and I’m climbing, and I bury my fingers deep in his hair and push one of his hands onto my cock. There’s such glorious friction and I’m nearly there, but I pull his head back and look him in the eye for one long moment. And he just stares and nods and tilts his head and I’m almost gone. Bones moving and rearranging and there’s a smell of sex and musk and such beautiful heat in the air, and under it all, hot, heavenly blood. Just one more step and I sink into smooth, tanned flesh and drown in the taste of him, as we both plummet over the edge.

He’s trembling under me, riding out the aftershocks, as I pull out and start to lave at the two small holes in his skin. Control, that’s what it’s about, not something I’m famous for, but it’s another way I’m changing. I kiss lightly up his neck and jaw ‘til I reach his mouth and I can feel his eyes on me, but for a moment I’m almost afraid of what will be in them. Then he ghosts his fingers up my arms and collar bone, ‘til one long digit rubs gently over my lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.” Sometimes I’m glad I’m a vampire, ‘cause right now I think I’d be blushing like a complete tosser, but I can’t keep the sappy grin off my face. “To use your usual word – Wow! You taste amazing, pet. Knew you would, all that chocolate you eat, you were bound to taste sweet.”

He grins and twitches his hips slightly and I look down and realise that we’re still together. “Do you think this is what they mean by ‘joined at the hip’?”

“Probably not, but it bloody well ought to be. That was fantastic.”

I ease off him and grab an old cloth and start to clean us up. He’s still sitting, like he’s frozen in place, watching me and letting me do what I want and I can almost see a question forming in his mind. “Worth waiting two months for?”

I finish wiping him down and wrap a spare blanket round him, before he starts to shiver and then I settle down beside him. “A lot can happen in a couple of months, pet. You did a lot of travelling, met new people, saw some sights, got a lot of miles and experiences under your belt. Obviously did some thinking as well. I did some thinking too. I knew what I wanted, but I said I wouldn’t push you. Needed you to make up your own mind. And you’ve come back here and we joked and laughed and snogged and that was great. Then you asked me to bite you and you took my breath away, love. So yeah, I think I can honestly say it was worth waiting for.”

He’s blushing so prettily, all that wonderful blood surging to the surface and now that I’ve had a taste, it’s like seeing him with a new depth, like he’s suddenly got a fourth dimension. “I don’t know that I want it to happen every time… you know, every time we have sex. But I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to feel you.” He’s looking anxious and biting his lip and I run a finger down his jaw and come to rest across his lips.”

“Even if it never happens again, love, I’ll remember how you taste and that’s enough. So no fretting. Come on, I think it’s time for a bit of a cuddle and some kip and then we’ll see where we’re up to in the morning.” I pull him towards me, still wrapped in his blanket and lower us both to the mattress rolling over ‘til he’s on his side and I’m spooning behind him. I reach back and haul the other blanket up and over us, ‘til we’re both covered, and lie there wallowing in his heat and the sound of his heartbeat in the empty space.

Moments pass and there’s nothing I want more than to lie here and dream about the last few hours, but there’s one more thing that needs to be said. “You know, love, you’re not going to be able to hide the bite. Was as careful as I could, but it will scar and you’re going to have to explain it.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not going to hide it, Spike. I’m not ashamed of it and I’m not going to make up some stupid story about getting bitten on my trip. The gang are probably going to freak, and Buffy will get in my face and demand to know what happened, and Willow will chew her lip and look worried, and Giles will make tea. Not that I’m stereotyping them or anything, but I wouldn’t have them do anything else. They’re my friends and that’s their way of showing that they’re worried. So I need to go and get it over with and deal with the fall out, so that we can move on.”

That’s my boy; they aren’t going to know what hit them. “Got a timescale for putting this grand plan into operation?”

Yeah, I said I’d meet the girls at Giles’ tomorrow night to do a bit of research, loosen up the muscles on some musty tomes. Seems as good a time as any to do it, while they’re all there.”

“Sounds like a plan, love. Kill all the birds with one stone as it were, though don’t be surprised if there are some hard words, pet. You’re right when you say your chickies love you, but they’ve got their heads so full of their own changes, they’re probably not going to be ready to deal with yours.”

“I know, I’ll remember.” He twists suddenly in his blanket, ‘til we’re face to face and there’s a look of concern on his face. “Spike, are you okay with this? I’ve just realised, I’m being selfish, thinking about how I’m going to deal with the gang, but what about you? Are you okay with me doing this? I don’t want to put you in the firing line for Buffy’s stake.”

“Don’t worry about me, pet. I’ll keep off the Slayer’s radar, but you just say the word and I’m right there with you and there won’t be a thing she or any of them can do to stop me. Right?”

He nods once, a little uncertainly and then again, decisive and sure. “We’re all changing, and I guess we’re all just works in progress, so they’re going to have to understand that.” That’s my boy, thinking it through and being comfortable with his answer. “Right, then blondie. That’s the plan. And right now, I’ve got another plan. Come here and give me another kiss.”

I smile at him, all dominant and sure of himself, and my demon can’t help purring inside. His friends are in for a hell of a shock and I’ll be there, enjoying the fun, every step of the way. I prop my head up on one hand and lean towards his mouth. “I like your plans, love.”


	5. Realisations 4: Jumping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander says fuck it and jumps of his cliff

_  
**Realisations 4: Jumping**   
_   


“Okay, I can do this. These are my friends, they might shout a bit, but it’s not like they’re going to be violent or anything. God, I hope there isn’t going to be violence.”

“Love, you don’t have to do this. We could pack up the Desoto and be out of here in a couple of hours. Why give yourself the grief? And I don’t know why the hell I’m wasting my breath, because I know you have to do this. So calm down, knock on the door and just do it. I’ll be waiting, when you come out. But you know you only have to shout and I’ll be right there. Doubt the Watcher will let me in, but I’ll still be there.”

“Thanks, Spike. Right then! Time for part one of the plan - speak to Giles before the girls get here.”

I give Spike a quick peck on the cheek and retreat before he can turn it into a full on snogging session. Snogging outside Giles’ door would definitely not be of the good. Not yet, anyway. With that thought, I knock, before I change my mind and do a runner. There’s part of me that’s half hoping there’s no one home, so that I don’t have to be all grown up and sensible, but before I’ve even knocked for the second time, Giles is at the door and I know without looking that Spike has melted into the shadows.

“Hey Giles, long time no see. Well only a couple of days, but we didn’t exactly have time for deep and meaningful conversation, what with the multiple vamp stakage going on.”

Giles is looking at me with a mixture of exasperation and something that almost looks like fondness and I realise how much I’ve missed him and how much his opinion matters to me. “I see your road trip hasn’t divested you of the ability to talk for long periods of time without breathing. I’m surprised you didn’t need a translator as you moved from state to state!”

“You wound me, Giles, you really do.” But I’m grinning at him and he just shakes his head and smiles back.

“I was just making some tea. Would you like some, or I have some soda if you’d prefer?”

“Tea would be good. Thanks”

I follow him into the apartment and take a long look round as he disappears into the kitchen. The place looks smaller than I remember, but that’s probably got something to do with the piles of books stacked precariously on every available surface. Looks like Giles hasn’t got round to tidying away the stuff we salvaged from the library, before the school and the Mayor went boom. I can hear the reassuring clink of china and a kettle coming to the boil. Giles is muttering to himself about remembering to order more Earl Grey, next time he’s in town, and I can’t help smiling at the normality of it. It all seems so safe, so mundane; just a middle aged British guy who’s into old books, getting a visit from an ex pupil. But Giles is deceptive, just like the books – so full of dangerous and esoteric knowledge – it’s like he’s Clark Kent, with extra tweed.

He emerges from the kitchen, carefully carrying two cups and I rescue one before he burns his fingers. “Milk and two sugars, if I remember correctly?”

“That’s it, thank you.”

He takes a small sip of his drink and studies me, and it’s like he knows there’s something up. “So, you’re looking well. How was your trip? I expect you have a tale or two to regale us with, yes?”

“You could say that.” I take a deep breath and hold tightly onto my cup. “Look Giles, there’s something I need to tell you. I need to tell the girls as well, but I thought I’d have more chance of your hearing me out, before the shouting starts.”

“Xander, I’m sure you got up to all sorts of things you shouldn’t have, while you were away, but that’s really the point of such an adventure. I hardly think you could have done anything that would make me, or anyone else, shout at you.”

“No, I know you won’t shout, but I kind of expect to see a lot of glasses cleaning and you’ll probably start looking for evidence of possession. I know Willow will!”

“Xander?”

“Okay, I’m stalling…”

I’m steeling myself to get on with it when the main door is pushed open and Buffy and Willow breeze in and I know the moment to get Giles onside, before the crap hits the proverbial, has gone right down the pan. Giles is looking at the girls, irritation clear on his face. “Buffy, I know we had a scheduled meeting, but I would ask you to respect that this is my home and do me the courtesy of knocking before you enter.”

They both have the grace to look guilty, so hey, maybe I’m not the only one who’s matured over the summer.

“Sorry Giles, I forgot. I was in a hurry to pick that big British brain of yours. I was hitting Willy for a little intel and he let something slip that I thought you should know about. Seems there might be a new player in town, looking for some long lost treasure called the ‘Amorous Jewel’, or something like that. Could be another love spell thing, so I thought you should know.”

Giles takes a long drink of his tea and I can almost hear the internal mutterings abut the American education system. “Thank you, Buffy. If you would keep your ear to the ground and try to obtain a little more specific information, we might be able to shed more light on the subject.”

“Sure, Giles, I’ll swing by the Alibi Room again tomorrow and see if Willy’s memory is any better. Anyway, I thought we weren’t meeting ‘til eight, but it looks like the gang’s all here. What gives with the early arrival, Xand? Don’t tell me you missed research so much, you were trying to make up for lost time.”

Okay, there’s the opening, I might as well get it over with, although I think I’ll start with the easy bit first. Just as I make up my mind, I wonder when ‘easy’ became a relative term. “Umm, I was just about to bring Giles up to date with some of the stuff that happened, while I was away.”

Buffy pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and it’s amazing how one small gesture can communicate cute and bored at the same time. “It’s not the Roswell museum again, is it? Giles, we had to listen to him talk about plastic aliens and bits of tinfoil for a whole hour yesterday.”

Giles just look at me and smiles and there’s a warmth in my stomach, which has nothing to do with the tea. “Really, I’m sure it was absolutely fascinating!” Score one for Giles.

“It’s okay, Buff, I got the alien stuff out of the way, so I won’t bore you again. Although I did buy you and Wills really cool key chains.” There, that got a smile and I think it’s probably now or never.

“I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just gong to say it and hope you hear me out. I had a great time on the trip. Which you already gathered. Saw a lot of stuff, met a pile of people, but I kind of didn’t do the whole trip on my own.”

I knew that would do it; Willow’s got her arms folded and she’s looking at me like I’m about ten years old. “Xander, I told you not to pick up hitch hikers. It’s dangerous. What were you thinking, you could have been hurt, or killed or kidnapped or…”

Okay, time to cut in. “Chill, Wills. I didn’t pick up a hitcher. It was someone I knew and we shared the driving. Actually, he did more driving then me. We stayed together, all the way to Texas.”

There’s a long look from Giles when I mention ‘he’, but he doesn’t dwell on it, yet. “Well I’m glad you had the company on your trip. I was a little concerned about you travelling on your own, but I didn’t feel it was my place to say so.”

“Thanks, Giles, it’s nice to know you care. You see, we didn’t just share the driving, we shared motel rooms as well - single motel rooms.”

I can see Willow’s eyes getting huge as her big brain starts to make the connections and, right on cue, Giles glasses come off. From the previous look, he’d obviously guessed what was probably coming, but old habits die hard. Buffy is looking at me with a confused expression and she’s obviously wondering what the big deal is. “So, you shared motel rooms. It saved some money, that makes sense.”

God, Buffy! For all she’s slay girl, and I love her to bits, she really is very innocent sometimes and Giles has to come to the rescue. “What I think Xander is trying to say is, that there was only one bed.”

Okay, time to get on with it. “What I’m trying to say, and making a hash of it, is that I’m gay.”

I take a breath and wait for the explosion, but it’s Giles to the rescue again. “You know, Xander, you’re at an age when it’s natural to test your boundaries, to experiment. You were away from home for the first time, tasting freedom, and you were curious. I take it the other boy is older and more experienced?”

“You could say that. But it’s not an experiment. Don’t get me wrong, I still like looking at a pretty girl, but I’ve known for a while that I liked boys. It wasn’t to do with the trip; I was seeing him before I left.”

The girls are just staring and I feel like I’ve kicked their puppy or something. I had a secret and I didn’t tell. “I’m sorry to throw this at you, but I can’t help how I feel. You’ve got all these big changes, with school and stuff, and I’m so proud of both of you, and Giles is all footloose ex Watcherman. But I’ve got changes too. I guess they just started a little earlier, while we were in senior year, and I know I should have told you, but there was the whole fluke thing and breaking up with Cordy and coming to terms with the fact that I really liked guys. Add in the Mayor, and the whole Ascension sitch, and I really didn’t know where to start. So I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I know that makes me a bad friend, ‘cause you probably think I didn’t trust you, and I do. I just didn’t know what to say.”

All at once there’s a blur of blonde movement and I feel like my ribs are being crushed, as they get the full force of Slayer strength. Buffy hugs, second only to Spike smoochies, and I can’t help clinging as she holds me. She’s muttering into my left shoulder and I look up and see Willow watching me, like she’s not sure what to do. I can almost see her rummaging through her mental files of the years she’s known me and, as she starts to smile, it’s as if she’s found the answer to a really hard trig problem. She rushes forward and Buffy finds herself elbowed out of the way by a red headed whirlwind who’s hanging on to me for dear life. She looks up at me and her smile is dazzling. “Why didn’t you tell me? No wonder we split up. It wasn’t ever going to work, was it?” That’s my Willow, so brilliant, but still able to make ‘two plus two’ equal 312 when it suits her view of the world. I hug her gently, disengage and look over at Giles and he’s watching me with something like pride in his eyes and my heart just aches with the thought that the look will change any moment.

“Well Xander, I still think you are young to be fixing decisions of this magnitude, but I respect your bravery in confiding in us and you know we will do everything we can to help you, at what must be a confusing time. I really am concerned that you would think that we would shout at you, over such a personal issue.”

“Thanks Giles, and you guys too. I really am happy that’s you’re cool with the whole gay thing, but I’m afraid it doesn’t quite end there, and that’s where the possibility of shouting and other stuff comes in.”

“Xander, you know you are amongst friends here. You can tell us anything. Well, anything within reason. No one is going to judge you."

Yeah right! “Okay then! The guy I’m seeing... well he’s not exactly a guy. Well he is a guy. 'Cause that’s kind of the definition of the whole 'gay now' thing. But he’s not exactly your run of the mill guy.” The gang are looking at me like I’ve got two heads, or something, and at least that would be a distraction, ‘cause could the earth just swallow me now? But just as I’m getting ready to give up on the whole new and improved maturity thing, a little voice in my head with a strangely British accent, tells me to be brave.

I look over Willow’s shoulder, and I’m sure I see a flash of blonde in the darkness, and I gather my courage. ‘”What I’m trying to say, is that the guy's a vampire and I’m in love.”

I look them in the eyes and watch the range of emotions flicker across all their faces. It’s just for a moment, but it’s like someone sucked all the air out of the room, and then all hell breaks loose. _“You’re joking right? It must be possession… You hate vamps… Maybe it’s a spell…?”_

The girls voices blend into one big noise, but by now I’ve got my eyes fixed on Giles and the look of pride has disappeared, just like I predicted, but instead of disgust, there’s worry and something that might have been pity, but it’s gone before I can be sure. “Xander, this is a very vulnerable time of life and I can understand that you wanted to check out your options. It seems possibly that this man, this vampire, took advantage of the situation. I’m sure, if the various chronicles are anything to go by, you will have learned a lot physically, but it’s not love. Lust, yes, but not love, and you know you need to stop before it’s too late.”

The girls are looking shell shocked at the idea of a physical guy/guy thing, although, given time, I’ll bet I’ll be getting questions. The vamp thing, however, is another matter and I know I need to finish this now.

“I’m not possessed, Wills. No more than when I was sneaking about with Cordelia, or when we fooled around. And no one is going to do any spells. Oh, and by the way, we need to have a talk at some point about people doing tracking spells on other people without permission. But let’s leave that for another day, I don’t want to be accused of trying to change the subject.” She looks shocked, but Buffy’s shaking her head and Willow folds her arms and fixes me with the famous resolve face. Too bad, it’s lost its power and she knows it.

“You’re right Giles, there’s definitely lust. Buckets and buckets of lust. ‘Cause, god knows, there’s a lot to lust after, and that’s probably far too much information. But I’m not gullible; I’ve not been taken advantage of and I am perfectly capable of making rational decisions that have nothing to do with my hormones. We met and talked and just did guy stuff, long before we even got to any of the naughty stuff. I’m gay. I’m in love with a guy, a vampire guy, and the vampire guy is Spike.”

What a way to go, strap yourself to a large firework, light the blue touch paper and boom. If the shouting was loud before, I think I’m about to get deafened. I let them rant for a good minute, without interruption, and pick up my cup and sip at the remains of the tea, but it’s long gone cold. Putting the cup back down on the table, I straighten up and find Buffy, right in my face, pulling at the collar of my shirt and I can hear Willow gasp as they stare at the small scar. Buffy’s radiating confusion and anger and I know I have to let her have her shot and if it’s physical, then that’s the way it goes, but as she starts to speak, she sounds more hurt than anything else.

“How could you, Xander? I don’t understand, you hate vamps. Gay I can cope with, I’m all supporto gal for gay. But a vamp, and not just any vamp. God, you had to choose Spike? Why the hell did you choose Spike?”

“Because he’s Spike, Buffy. Because he’s funny, and attentive, and drop dead gorgeous, and experienced. Because he listens to me. Because he thinks I’m sexy too. I’m sorry Buffy, I don’t know what else to say. He loves me.”

She’s still shaking her head. “But, Spike?” She’s not getting passed this anytime soon and I really don’t want to have the next part of the conversation.

“Okay, Buff, I suppose this is where I could cast Angel back in your face and say something stupid and provocative about people and glass houses, although glass houses isn’t such a good metaphor with the whole flammable vamp thing. But I’m not going to follow the script. You asked me, in the Bronze the other night, when I got all wise and motivational – well I don’t think I am. I’m still just Xander, who makes mistakes and jumps in with both feet. But the one thing I learned on my trip, was to trust myself. I’m sorry guys. I’m in love and, god knows, love makes you do the wacky. I was wrong about Angel, you loved him and I couldn’t see it. Maybe I’ve just got some glasses, or something. I didn’t plan this, it just happened. And I’m happy. I know this is a shock, and there’s a whole pile of stuff you probably want to say, but I think you should let it simmer for a while. I’m going to go now. You’ve got the address of my motel, so you know where to find me.”

I move towards the door and I know I’m being unfair to leave it there, after throwing the grenade, but I think we’ll go round in circles if I stay. I’ve just got the door open when Giles asks me to stop and, of course, I do. “Xander, we do need to talk about this. We need to understand how this happened. Above all else, I'm concerned about your well being.”

“I know, Giles. Thank you. I’m sorry I ruined the research party, but you were bound to find out sooner or later and I needed it to be on my own terms. I do have lots to tell you, but I don’t think now is the time. I love you guys and I love Spike, and maybe I’m stupid and greedy, but I really want to have you both. “

I walk out into the warm night, closing the door behind me, and I feel like I’m breathing for the first time in hours. I stand for a moment, letting the emotions of the evening drain away and, right on cue, there’s a pair of strong arms circling my waist and I lean back, knowing that I’m safe.

A light kiss lands at the back of my neck as the hold gets firmer. “Don’t worry, love, it’ll get better. I’m proud of you. Remember that they love you and you love them back. In the end, that’s what makes the difference. They’ll come round, eventually.”


	6. Realisations 5: Home Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get a visitor

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**Realisations 5: Home Truths**   
_   


“How are you doing, pet?” I study him carefully as he emerges from the bathroom, all showered and smelling of citrus and sweet, hot boy.

“I’m good. Better now that I’ve had a shower. I still don’t know why you wouldn’t let me get cleaned up last night. I was a bit crusty this morning and it’s so not a good look when you can’t separate yourself from the sheets.”

“Sorry, love. You were all warm and I was too comfy to move.” It’s the truth, had to keep him distracted after his encounter with the little gang of ‘do gooders’ last night. He doesn’t need to know I also wanted rid of the scent of the Slayer and the witch.

“Yeah, I know. You talk the talk, but you’re a big softy at heart, who’d sell his grandma for a heated blanket. Good job you’ve got me instead!”

“Think you might just be right, love.” I watch him as he gets dressed and it’s funny how he can make almost as much of a production putting on a T-shirt, as he can taking one off. He makes a point of turning his back and wriggling that tight little arse in my direction as he works the worn denim of his jeans over his hips and it’s all I can do to stop myself dragging them back down and buggering him blind. He turns round and slinks towards me and the little sod knows exactly how to get me going.

“So, blondie, are you ready to go out then?” He’s grinning at me, and I can’t help shaking my head.

“Evil, pet. Very, very evil. I think I’ve created a monster.”

“Learned from the best, didn’t I? Come on, let’s go see what’s moving and shaking on the Hellmouth.”

I’m just about to grab my duster when there’s a tentative knock at the door and I look at him questioningly, but he just shrugs his shoulders. Right then, only three other people know he’s here, so it’s about time to meet this head on. There’s another knock, firmer this time, and I yank the door open and the Watcher is standing there, looking like he’s not sure of his welcome.

“Watcher.”

“Spike.” He says my name like he’s got a bad taste in his mouth and I just smile at him and stand back.

“Giles, hey, how are you? Is something wrong – prophecy, impending end of the world, world tea shortage?”

The Watcher turns to my boy, smiling slightly and shaking his head. He recognises a diversion when he sees one. “I’m fine, Xander, thank you for asking. And no, nothing so dire – I’m expecting a delivery of Earl Grey in the next few days.” He’s making an effort to act normally, but it’s obvious he expected to catch the boy alone. “You look as if you’re about to go out. I’ve obviously called at a bad time. I’ll come back when you’re less occupied.” He turns to go, and I start to pull on my duster, but one look across the room and I can see what’s going to happen.

“Giles, please. It’s not a bad time. We were just going out on patrol, but that can wait. This is way more important.” The Watcher’s got his glasses off and could he get any more predictable. “Please, Giles? Look, I’m not stupid, I know you’d rather speak to me on my own, but there’s nothing you would say to me, that you can’t say in front of Spike. We’re sort of a package deal, now.”

Glasses get polished and replaced and there’s silence for a long moment. “Very well, Xander, I admit I would rather talk to you alone, but on reflection, perhaps this is a conversation that needs to be done all together – as mature adults.” For some reason he glances back in my direction as he says the last bit. I think I might be a bit hurt.

“Thanks, Giles. I know this isn’t easy. Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me, last night, and I’m sorry I kind of dumped on you. It didn’t go exactly as I intended, but then again I really didn’t know what I intended. I just opened my mouth and stuff came out, so no change there, then. But hey, no one threw a punch so I’m chalking it up as a win. So can we sit down and talk about this?” He pulls out a chair from the small kitchen set in the corner and after the briefest pause the Watcher sits down and waits. My boy settles on the edge of the bed and I wander over and sink down on the pillows, propping myself up against the headboard and stretching my legs out on top of the covers.

I’m just reaching for my fags when there’s a warm hand on my ankle. “Spike, lay off the cigarettes for now, please? I think the atmosphere is probably thick enough, without you adding to it.” His eyes are pleading with me, but from the set of his mouth I know he’s serious and I drop the fag packet down on the side table.

“Sure, pet. I’ll have one later, yeah?”

“Thank you.” His smile is blinding and I can hear old Rupert catch his breath.

“Okay, Giles, I guess you want the whys and the wherefore’s of how all this started? How we got hooked up and why the resident doughnut boy, walking hormone and all round vamp hater ended up with blondie, here?”

The Watcher blinks at the nickname, but nods his head. “I think that's it in a nutshell, Xander. Also, before you begin, I would like to reiterate that I have no issue with your sexual orientation and will support you in any way I can. I am merely concerned about your choice of partner and your safety.”

My boy smiles again and I have to give the old man points for saying most of the right things. “Thanks Giles, I appreciate it. I know how you feel, but I’m fine and I’m safe. I’ve probably never been safer.

“So, to go back to the beginning: it all started when I was still seeing Cordy, but was being stupid and messing about with Willow and we had the whole fluke disaster. Anyway…”

I sit back and watch the emotions flit across his face as he tells his story – about us meeting at the Bronze; about the aftermath of his encounter with Faith, and me mourning the loss of Dru. When he gets to the bit about me teaching him about strategy and how to fight in the lead up to Graduation, old Rupes begins to shift in his chair; he knows damn fine he should have done it himself. I notice there’s no mention of the opium and that’s probably as well – don’t want his knickers getting in any more of a twist than they are already.

The tale breaks off and, for a moment, the Watcher lives up to his name as he absorbs the information. “Well, I must say, Xander, I had no idea all that was happening while you were still at school. I could say that I wish you had felt you could have come and talked to me about what was happening in your life, but I don’t suppose I really made myself available to you.” The man actually looks guilty. And so he bloody should. “The trouble with traditional Watcher training, is that the focus is purely on the duty of the Slayer. The idea of friends and family doesn’t really enter the equation. I do blame myself that you found comfort and company in other places.” He glances across at me again, and I’m tempted to do some stirring, but there’s a quick squeeze on my ankle and I keep my peace. For now.

“There’s nothing to blame yourself for, Giles. My decision, my choice. I was going through a lot of stuff, not just the gay bit, but just working out who I was – not as a slayerette, or as a coffee and pastry gopher – but just as me. And before you say anything, Spike didn’t tell me what to be – I’m not some little Frankenstein, and yes, I know he was the doctor, not the monster, but you get the general point. Spike simply made some comments; asked me some questions and told me some stories that made me think about myself and what I wanted in the future. And you were right last night, he taught me a lot on the physical side and it is pretty awesome.” He’s blushing and I can’t help leering at him. “But most of all, he made me realise that I don’t have to do what’s expected of me; that I’ve got options. And, that there’s a world outside of Sunnydale. It’s stupid, I know, but it hadn’t even occurred to me that someone like me could leave. But now I’ve been away and I’ve reached two conclusions.”

He pauses for breath and Rupes is nodding encouragingly. “The first is that I need to leave Sunnydale. I’ll stay ‘til the girls are settled, and I need to get a job for a while, to get some cash together, but they don’t need me hanging about. The other day, Buffy invited me to a Halloween party that’s coming up at some frat house, but I’m not going to go. I won’t be the townie, begging for scraps and spoiling their cred. They’ve got their own changes to work through and I won’t get in the way of that. And when they’re done, I hope they’ll respect my changes.”

“I must say, Xander, whatever else I think, you have matured remarkably over the summer. The girls love you, just as you love them, and the strength of that should help your friendship endure, no matter what different directions your journeys take you in. I understand what you are saying and I respect it. But you said you had reached two conclusions? I suspect I can guess what the second one involves, but I would like to hear it from you.”

“That’s easy. I want to stay with Spike. If he wants me?”

“Always want you, love.” This time the touch on my ankle is more of a stroke and I know Rupert is watching every movement.

“So that’s it, Giles. I know it’s not what you would have wanted, but that’s the deal and it’s not going to change.”

The Watcher stares at the floor for a moment, like he’s seeking arguments in the cracks of the lino, then he gets up abruptly and I’ll bloody kill him if he walks out on the boy after all that.

“Giles?” There’s a question and just a hint of fear in his voice as he watches the man pace towards the far wall and then turn and study us both for a moment.

“Xander, I do understand, believe me. God knows I did my share of kicking over the traces when I was younger. I understand the allure of the exotic. You think I’m a stuffy old man, who’s done nothing in his life, but bury himself in a pile of musty books and yards of tweed. But it’s an image, just like Spike’s duster and his mockney accent. We play the role assigned to us. I wasn’t always like this and god knows, Spike wasn’t always like that.” I think about objecting, but he’s off again. “I can still remember how intoxicating it was; how excited I was to be dancing on the edge of the ‘forbidden’.” He’s so earnest and I know he means every word, but he’s got it so wrong.

“But that’s just the thing, Giles. This hasn’t got anything to do with Spike, the ‘Vampire’. Sure, he can’t change his nature, even if I asked him to, and believe me, I’ve had to work out some issues on that score. This is about Spike, the man, who’s my friend as well as my lover. I know I’ve got a fairly dodgy past when it comes to demons, but that’s not what this is about. I love him and he loves me and he makes me happy. That’s something else I learned on my trip – I’m allowed to be happy and I wasn’t for a long time.”

I can see the ‘Watcher’ in Rupert wants to fight; to argue with the boy about the dangers of the relationship and the risks involved, but as he runs an absent hand through his hair, I can almost see the years of training slip away, and all that’s left is a man worrying about the son he didn’t know he had.

“I know, I’m sorry Xander, but I needed to hear you explain. I was trying to convince myself that you were merely drawn to the lure of something different, something dangerous, but I realise it is more complicated than that. I’m not going to patronise you and try to talk you out of this, because it’s obviously not going to work, but I do have a question.”

“Shoot, Giles.”

“It’s a question for Spike.” I look over at him and raise an eyebrow and I bet he’d love to hit me for daring to corrupt one of his chicks.

“Ask away, Rupes.” Oops, think I’ve really pissed him off now!

“I understand why you got together. I don’t like it and I don’t trust you, but Xander is an adult and I have to respect his decisions, even when I disagree with them. But I need you to explain one thing to me. Why the hell did you abandon him in Texas?”

Well, of all the things he could have asked, I didn’t expect that, or the hard edge in his voice. “Didn’t abandon him, Watcher. I was getting in his way and had to back off. This was his first big trip out in the world and he kept deferring to where I wanted to go. Can’t say it wasn’t nice to have someone put my needs and wants first for a change, but it kind of wasn’t the point. He had this list and I knew he’d never do half the things he had planned if I stayed.” From the look on old Rupert’s face, that wasn’t the answer he expected, either.

“It’s true, Giles. Anyway he didn’t abandon me. I know for a fact that he followed me from state to state like a puppy on a very long leash. It was like having my own personal long distance bodyguard.”

I glance briefly at Rupert and he’s got the same shocked expression as I’m probably wearing, just for different reasons and as I turn back, there’s a certain brown eyed boy with such a look of innocence on his face that I can feel my fangs start to itch.. “You knew! You bloody knew I was following you and you never said anything! You little git! I should put you over my knee for pulling a stunt like that!”

“Umm, Spike, not exactly helping our case with winning over Giles, with the whole, ‘I’m safe with you’ deal. So, yes, I knew. Why do you think I meandered so much from place to place? Or repeated very loudly to the motel desk clerk where exactly I was headed at the start of each trip. Or why I did so much night driving. I was tempted to take out an ad in some of the local papers, but decided that was probably a bit much. So yeah, I knew, so deal with it and move on.”

I grab my fags, despite his earlier request, and light up and he’s sitting watching me calmly as I pull in the smoke and then exhale sharply. “Okay then, glad we’ve got that sorted. So Giles, are we cool, or is there anything else you need? You can ask anything you like – whether I’ll answer it or not, is another matter, but I don’t want to keep any more secrets.”

Rupert looks at both of us and then laughs and shakes his head. “You know, I came here ready to read the riot act and save the poor deluded teenager from the clutches of the big, bad vampire. But now, I really am wondering who’s more in need of rescuing.” That gets a protest from the boy, but I can’t help grinning – Rupes has definitely got hidden depths and I really want to hear more about his little walk on the wild side, when he was younger – I get the feeling he might have been a real goer.

I’m just picturing a younger, fitter, harder Rupert when he pushes himself off the wall and moves to stand over me. “Let me be clear about one thing, Spike. I’ll tolerate you because of Xander. I can’t answer for the girls, but I will try to smooth the way. But as I said, I don’t trust you and if you do anything at all to hurt Xander, in any way, then you’ll be begging me to kill you by the time I’m finished. I will hurt you, slowly and over time, and I will enjoy every single minute. Do you understand?”

“Crystal, Rupert. Wouldn’t hurt him, but I won’t stand by and let anyone else hurt him either, so see what you can do with the chickies. I won’t have them making judgements and catty comments. If they’ve got something to say, they can say it to me.” We stare at each other for a moment, measuring the steel and the force behind the message and then he gives a short nod. Right, sorted.

“Oh, and Spike, over the years I’ve developed an acute ability to interpret Buffy speak. I realise what she was referring to as the ‘Amorous Jewel’ and who is looking for it. Now that we’ve spoken I have a fair idea why you want it, and if you find it, I trust your feelings for Xander will ensure you use it appropriately. I would also like to study it, if you’re successful in your search.”

I can almost feel the weight of brown eyes boring into me as I study the man in front of me, and I know I’ll have to deal with this later. But for now, this is between me and the Watcher. “It’s a deal, Rupert. You get first dibs on the research and I get to do some things I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

I get a small smile and a look that might almost have been sympathy and then he turns back to the boy. “Xander, I need to go and meet Buffy for her post patrol debrief. But I want to repeat again, that you can always come to me if you need anything. Please remember that.”

“Thanks Giles, I will. Don’t worry, I’m fine, but if ever I’m not fine, then you’re the first door I’m knocking on.”

The Watcher nods again and turns towards the door. He’s got it half open, when he pauses and turns back. “I nearly forgot, I had another question. You mentioned something about Willow casting tracking spells on people without permission. What exactly did you mean?”

“I was travelling through Reno, when I met up with a Shaman. We talked a bit and he read me. He found out that I had a tracking spell on my aura. It wasn’t doing anything harmful, just sending back signals that I was alive and, more or less, where I was. I remembered the night I left for my trip, Willow was muttering under her breath when she gave me a hug, so I kind of put two and two together.”

“Right, that makes sense. Throughout the summer she played this game about pretending to guess where your next postcard was going to come from. It seems she was playing with a stacked deck, as it were. Thank you, Xander, I think, as well as hearing how patrol went, I need to have a little conversation with Miss Rosenberg about the ethics of magic.”

With that, the Watcher’s gone and I really wouldn’t like to be the little witch, with the mood he’s in tonight. Bet I could sell tickets to that little encounter. With that appealing thought running round my head, I heave myself up and amble down to where my boy’s still sitting on the end of the bed.

“Right, love. That went as well as it could. So now I think it’s time you and me sat down and I told you a bedtime story about what happened to a sweet, hot, little boy who took it upon himself to keep secrets from a big bad vampire” He looks at me like I’ve gone mad, but I sit down beside him and pull him into my lap. “Once upon a time…”


	7. Realisations 6: No Man's Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys visit the Bronze

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**Realisations 6: No Man's Land**   
_   


  


“Come on, Spike, please? Do it for me. Please? Pretty please – with blood sprinkled weetabix on top…”

“Not going to work, pet. I’m not doing it. You’re not going to change my mind. Not even if you pout.” God, please don’t pout.

“Not even if I do my striptease thing afterwards. You could be a special client who’s hired me for the evening. I’d do a show, just for you!”

“You’ll always do the show just for me, love, or I’ll bloody know the reason why. And I told you not to pout. And don’t wiggle your arse like that. And don’t bat your eyelashes at me. And… Oh, bloody hell, if it means that sodding much to you, I’ll go to the bloody Bronze, Slayer or no frigging Slayer.”

He’s bouncing like a twelve year old – a very provocative, sexy, twelve year old, and god, if I wasn’t going to Hell already, I think I just booked my place. “Thanks Spike. And you know, she might not even be there, but it being Friday night and all, I guess there’s a pretty good chance the gang’ll be in residence. It’ll probably not be as calm as with Giles, last night, and I was so not expecting to have a mature adult conversation there; it proves that sometimes real life is even weirder than anything the Hellmouth can dish out. So, let’s just get it over with – like ripping a band aid off a cut or something. I want everything out in the open. I want us out in the open. It’s all in line with this whole ‘no more secrets’ shtick I’ve got going. Besides, at least the Bronze is fairly neutral. It’s not like I can see you agreeing to go round to Giles’ place and having tea with the girls. At least this way you can have a beer.”

“Oh, I don’t know, pet. The thought of your Giles and a cup of Earl Grey might go down a treat. Could do without the little princesses being there, but I can’t say I’d mind hearing old Rupert reminisce about his adventures on the dark side when he was younger. I’ll bet there’s all sorts of stuff waiting to crawl out of the woodwork, given the right incentive."

“I could really do without the disturbing woodwork crawling metaphors – on the Hellmouth, it might just happen. And yeah, maybe you’d have better luck than me. After the whole funky, Eyghon tattoo thing, I tried to wheedle Giles into opening up, especially about the sitch with Ethan Rayne, but his lips were sealed tighter than a watcher’s tea caddy.” He’s pulling on his jacket as he speaks, so I guess I’m not getting out of this. “So, you ready?”

I check my pockets for fags and my Zippo, and I’m set to go. “Bronze it is, then. Might as well get it over with, and I believe you promised me a beer, pet.”

He’s shaking his head, but he’s already half way out the door and I watch his bum, as I follow him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I pay for the beer and you get to drink it. . Some things never change. And you’ll probably beat me at pool as well, ‘cause with the whole bad boy image, it really won’t look good if you lose.”

“You reckon you can take me, pet?”

He throws a saucy look over his shoulder and sticks out his tongue. “Sure, I can beat you at pool. Easy. I just usually take pity on the poor, pool challenged vampire and let you get away with it. “

“Right then, I obviously missed that one. Went right over my head. Since I’m a very slow vamp, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re telling me that all those times, when we were away, you were just letting me win. That you’re actually some kind of super secret pool hustler, but you don’t like to boast?”

He’s walking backwards now, wiggling his eyebrows and someone is going to be in so much trouble later. “Could be. Maybe there’s a phone booth outside the Bronze and I’ll go in, turn round three times, and come out with my underpants on the outside of my jeans and a magic pool cue in my hand!”

“Well, love, any time you want help handling your magic pool cue in public, I think I could be persuaded.” Now he’s turning all sorts of lovely colours and it’s nice to know I can still get to him. “And you’re not wearing underpants.” Got him trained nicely in that area. Nothing like a bit of emergency access when the mood strikes.

“Yeah, well, that’s so not the point. You get the general idea.”

“I get the idea, pet. But if you really think you’re going to beat me at pool tonight, I’ll let you have your little fantasies, for now.” Then we’ll get to the good fantasies later, if he plays his cards right.

He turns so he’s facing forward again, but he waits ‘til I’m along side, and almost shyly curls his fingers round my hand and the heat and the pressure promise so much more. Maybe it won’t be such a bad night, after all.

*********************

Terrific. Some master, fucking vampire I turned out to be. One little pout, and a promise of a bit of tease and tickle, and I’m about as scary as one of Dru’s dollies – though that Miss Edith always gave me the creeps. So we’re back at the poxy teenage club, where it all started. Same plastic music; same plastic drinks; same wave of teenage hormones – the last bit’s the only thing that makes the dump worth visiting. Just because I’ve got my boy, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the sweet stench of hope and lust and desperation. Still evil here. Sometimes. It’s just like a best suit these days – if I wore it every day, it’d get all creased.

I’m just starting to tell myself that I’m nearly as much of a wanker as the great poof, when the boy starts, clutching at my arm.

“Spike, umm, you know that stuff about band aids and no more secrets? Well, it looks like it’s going to happen.”

I follow his gaze and there’s the Slayer, large as life and twice as blonde, sitting with the red head. The witch doesn’t look very happy and I reckon she’s probably smarting from whatever old Rupert said to her, last night, about her magic. There’s a big jock type sitting next to the Slayer and, if I reading the body language right, I think old Peaches might have a rival. This could actually be fun.

A passing waiter manoeuvres a tray of drinks through the crowd and, as he turns his back, I grab a couple of beers and hand one to the boy. He looks like he’s going to protest, but the need for Dutch courage takes over and he takes a long pull, before staring at me balefully.

“I know I probably need this, but you do realise, if I get caught, I’ll finish up getting banned from here.”

“Didn’t realise that would be a problem, love. With all your thoughts of leaving, didn’t think you’d be bothered about what a few hicks thought.”

“You know I don’t. I just want to leave on my own terms, not because I’ve been run out of town on a rail – and what the hell does that mean, anyway?” He’s looking at me like he genuinely thinks I might have the answer.

“Xan, love, you’re wittering.”

“Yeah, sorry. Imminent Scoobyage about to happen and it makes my mouth forget the new improved me.”

“Just pretend you’ve got your underwear on the outside, pet. The superpowers don’t just work for pool, yeah?”

He grins at me and I just know he’s conjuring up the picture in his head. “Okay, underwear, pretend, superpowers, check.”

I give him a quick stroke down his spine and I can almost feel him gather his resolve, as he mutters under his breath, “I can do this.” He moves forward and I’m proud of how relaxed he looks as he nears the girls’ table. My boy can put on a hell of an act when he wants to, but then, he’s been doing it most of his life. I follow a few steps behind, keeping out of the line of sight, for now; watching his back and still giving him space to work. As he stops, the witch and the Slayer look up in tandem and the smiles of welcome are genuine in that first moment, before they remember the last meeting. But it doesn’t stop my boy and he’s smiling at them like they’re the biggest box of Twinkies he’s ever seen. Tom Cruise has nothing on my boy – and he’s taller – and better looking.

“So, how are my two favourite ladies? Out for a night on the town, wondering what wackiness and fun could be had in this funky town of ours?”

“Xander!” The red head’s tone is fond, but exasperated, and he rocks back on his heels and grins in a well practiced move. “You know the Bronze is about as exciting as it gets, round here. Definitely no wackiness to be had.” As she speaks, her eyes skitters across to the jock and it’s obvious he’s not in the know about the darker side of Sunnydale. Now this could make all the difference to the evening – no bitching about vampires and magic and nasty, evil, friend-seducing demons. I can see my boy’s face in profile, from where I’m standing, and it’s obvious he’s realised the same thing, and I watch the tension start to ooze out of him.

The Slayer’s just about to add her tuppence worth, probably to back up the witch’s chirpiness, when her gaze slides over Xan’s shoulder to where I’m standing, half hidden in the shadow of a pillar, and I can’t help grinning at her. She’s not smiling now.

I amble forward, press myself up against the boy’s back and look at the Slayer, and it must be eating her up inside to sit there and watch me. “Buffy, isn’t it? Xan here, talks a lot about you and his friend Willow. You maybe don’t remember me, but we met briefly about a year ago – name’s Spike, in case you’d forgotten. Was in town for a while; my ex girlfriend had a bit of a rest cure. Sorry I couldn’t say hello when I was here last time – had my focus elsewhere, you could say.” I’m not sure if the Watcher has had time to give the chickies the background, but I’ll give her credit that she sits still and the thin smile is only forced if you know what you’re looking for. She’s so desperate to say something, but she’s got an eye on her guest and it’s killing her to play nice. Definitely fun time.

“Xan and me, we’re going to be around for a bit. Maybe we could get together, get to know each other a bit better. Be mates, like, yeah?” I know I’m going to get hell when we get back to the motel and I bet the promised striptease has gone out of the window, but I’ll say sorry later. Right now, I’m enjoying myself and from the resigned look on my boy’s face, he knows it. That’s one of the things that never ceases to amaze me – he really does get me and he’s still here, despite it all. Must be love, or something.

I turn my attention to the newbie and raise an eyebrow. “Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure, mate?”

The jock’s looking at me, like I’m from another planet, but before he can say anything the Slayer jumps right in there. “Riley, Riley Finn. He’s a TA in one of our classes, but we managed to persuade him to put the books away for once and have a bit of fun.” Bet she didn’t mean this kind of fun. “Umm, Riley, this is Xander and that’s…Spike.” Bet she’s got all sorts of names she’s like to call me. “Xander’s a friend of ours. Umm, Spike is Xander’s friend.”

She’s practically choking on her words and, as ever, my boy can’t help bailing her out. “Nice to meet you, Riley. Yeah, me and Willow have been best buds since kindergarten. And Buffy joined the merry band when she transferred from LA, back in our junior year. Oh and don’t pay any attention to bleach for brains here, if he says anything outrageous. He just likes to wind people up. Don’t you, Spike?”

“Sure, love. Don’t pay any attention to anything I say.”

The Slayer might be playing nice, but she’s not one to miss an opportunity when it’s handed to her on a plate. .“Not like anyone does anyway, Spike. It’s not as if you have anything interesting to say.” Ouch, the Slayer’s got claws and the witch is looking at me like she’s working on a nice dusting spell. She’s the one I’m really going to have to watch.

“Play nice, Buff, please. We’ve just come for a quiet night at the Bronze and a couple of games of pool. I know you guys don’t have much in common, but I’d really like my friends and my boyfriend to get along. Please?”

Riley Riley Finn looks from one to the other and the word ‘boyfriend’ has obviously just filtered through, and it’s my boy to the rescue, again.

“So, Riley, where do hang out when you’re not at UC Sunnydale?”

“Iowa.” Makes sense, middle of nowhere, big open spaces. Bit like the gap between his ears.

“Iowa? Wow! I passed through Iowa on my road trip. Have you seen the big graffiti rock? Isn’t it neat?” He grabs a chair and starts to chat about some of the places he saw on his trip and, as I take a seat and watch him, I can’t resist lighting up and grin again as the Slayer and the witch look disapproving. But my boy’s poetry in motion, charming the hayseed, and after a while the girls can’t help but relax, as they listen to his stories. His hand slips back and rests lightly on my knee, as I sit beside him, and the Slayer sees the movement and I can almost hear her teeth grinding. There’s going to be a reckoning, no doubt about it, but the fireworks can come later, when there’s no civilians about. For now we’re in No Man’s Land and I’m content to sit and smoke and listen to my boy chatter. He’s reminding his girls why they love him and that’s enough for now. Later, I’ll do the same.


	8. Realisations 7: Confrontations and Compromises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get more visitors

_  
**Realisations 7: Confrontations and Compromises**   
_   


  
Well, that was a night I’ll remember for a while. All that subtext and careful phrasing and pussyfooting about, was making my head hurt. And a certain vamp was enjoying every, single minute. Bastard. My bastard, though. Can’t say I actually blame him. Much. Having Riley there, somehow made it easier to have a semi normal conversation and the girls had to sit and accept Spike as my boyfriend. A normal boyfriend. A boyfriend who then dragged me back to the motel, after a couple of hours, and screwed me so far through the bed I thought we were going to hit Australia. Hell of a way to get into a country, without going through customs. And the dirty talk and the promises of things to come... God! I can’t decide if I’m horny or embarrassed, just thinking about them.

So now I’m lying here, feeling pretty satisfied with life, watching my vamp get ready for a few hours of creeping through cemeteries. Suppose I should find it disturbing that my undead lover gets his jollies by ripping the heads of sundry unsuspecting demons, but for some reason it doesn’t actually bother me. As long as he doesn’t bring me a body part as a present, like some overgrown kitty, we’ll be just fine. That’s the thing I’m going to have to get the girls to understand - I know he’s a demon and he doesn’t hide it. But he doesn’t rub it in my face either. It’s the combination I love, the demon and the man, and Spike wouldn’t be Spike if he didn’t have both. That’s what I’ve got to explain to them. But that’s for tomorrow, maybe. Right now, I’m going to lie here and bask and contemplate my vampire.

He’s sashaying towards the door, all attitude and swagger, when he stops and stiffens and I push myself up on my elbows. “Spike? What’s wrong?”

“Think we’re about to have company, pet.”

Just as he finishes speaking, there’s a knock at the door. It’s firm, determined and insistent, not like Giles’ tentative rapping, and as I meet Spike’s gaze, I realise what this means and scramble out of bed, grabbing desperately at my jeans. “Oh, shit. I thought we’d have longer.”

He watches me, one hand playing with the ever present Zippo and I’d swear the bastard was laughing at me, as I push one leg into the denim and nearly fall over. I’m sure the damn things have developed a mind of their own since they got yanked off earlier. “Was going to happen sooner than later, love. Might as well get it over with.”

The banging is getting louder and then the shouting starts. “Xander? Xander are you in there? I swear, if you don’t open this door, right now, I’m going to kick it in and you’ll have to pay the motel for the repairs. Now, open the door.”

I look over to Spike for help, but he just raises the ubiquitous eyebrow and one of these days I swear I’m going to shave it off, just for the hell of it. “Umm, hang on. Be right there. Leave the poor defenceless plywood alone, Buff.”

I finish wrestling my possessed jeans into submission, but haven’t managed to grab a shirt, when Spike obviously finally decides to intervene, but instead of helping me finish dressing, he strides over to the door and hauls it open. The girls are right there, Buffy poised to do some grievous bodily harm to an unsuspecting bit of wood, and Willow’s right behind, her expression a combination of anxious, determined and just a little bit angry. Oh yeah, my life just gets more and more fun. I glance at Spike again, but he just smirks a little as he eyes my bare chest. Bastard could at least have let me get covered up, before he opened the door. There’s a shirt on the other side of the bed, draped over the back of a chair, but I don’t want to turn my back on the girls to get it. I don’t trust Buffy not to stake Spike, if she gets the opportunity.

Okay, time for some serious diplomacy. “Buff, Wills! How you doing? I wasn’t expecting to get a visit quite so soon. Not that it’s not great to see you, but I kind of got the impression you had plans for tonight? Especially you, Buff. I thought you and Riley were going to bond over hot chocolate and text books? Or did I misinterpret the whole body language thing you two had going on?” That’s it, divert and defuse - it’s the only way to go.

She’s shaking her head as she walks through the door, Willow at her heels. “Nah, it didn’t pan out in the end. You’re right, we were going to, but he got a call on his cell, something about a crisis back at the frat house. I can’t believe he’s got his own cell, how cool is that? Mom wouldn’t let me have one.” I just stare at her and she stops with the babble. “Sorry. Anyway, one of his friends had a problem that needed sorting and apparently Riley was the only one who could help. Hey, it must be great to be indispensable.” She pauses for a moment and I can almost see the line of slayers past and present crowding at her back and I wonder how fine the line is between disposable and indispensable. Our eyes meet and it’s like she’s having the same thought, but then she brushes her hair away from her face and smiles brightly. “So we’re going to hook up another time.”

“Cool. So, what can I do for my two favourite ladies?”

“Talk, Xander. We want to talk. Alone.” Wow, if looks could kill, a certain vamp would be one big dust bunny right now and I can’t help moving to stand between my friend and my lover. Whatever her intentions, she’s going to have to go through me first, and I watch her shoulders start to relax as she gets the message.  
.  
“Buffy, I’ve already had the conversation with Giles. I think I should have just put in on tape, or something. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve heard Giles’ version, but I want to hear it straight from you. I think we deserve that, after the way you dropped your bomb and then bailed on us the other night.”

“Okay, fine. I guess you’re right.” I glance over at Spike and he’s leaning against the wall by the door, flicking his Zippo on and off. It’s the only indication that he’s not relaxed.

“Do you want me to stay, pet? Can do, if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay. We need to do this. You’ve got stuff to do.” He shoves the Zippo back into a pocket and pushes himself off the wall. "So, what exactly have you got to do, anyway, apart from the usual bit of demon slaughter? Or is it just a mundane night, tonight?”

Interesting, I swear if vamps could blush, he’d be a beacon by now and I cock my head to one side and stare at him ‘til he crumbles. “Not much. Calling in a few favours, nothing heavy. Got a sniff of something I think you might like, so I’m just following it up.”

“What, like a present?” All of a sudden it’s like the girls aren’t there, as I walk towards him and bat my eyes. “So, what kind of present?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, love. Haven’t got it yet.”

He’s getting me a present – what a boyfriend! Then a horrible thought hits me. “Umm, it’s not some demon body part, is it? Some kind of bizarre courting ritual?”

“No, pet. I can guarantee it’s not a body part. The only body parts you’ll be handling are mine, yeah?” He does a little shimmy that has me groaning and then there’s a cough in the background and all of a sudden I’m conscious that I’m practically plastered to Spike’s front, shirtless and rapidly getting hard.

“Umm, right. Well you get on it, then. We’ll be fine. Right?” I turn and smile brightly at the girls and they’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads or something. And I know exactly where the second head is. Spike leans forward and lands a quick kiss on my ear and heads for the door and I can’t help blushing slightly, before wondering just how screwed up I am that I can rub myself up against my boyfriend half naked and only be a bit embarrassed, but a simple little kiss has me blushing like a girl on her first date.

“Right, love. See you later. Be good.” He nods as he passes Buffy. "Slayer, Red, play nice with my boy. Remember he’s your friend, but he doesn’t belong to you.”

Willow’s about to say something scathing, I can just tell, but he’s out the door before she can get it out. I heave a sigh of relief, but I should have known better, as he sticks his head back round the door. “I’ll pick you up some breakfast while I’m out, pet. And maybe a couple of yards of rope – we can play one of those games I was talking about, once you’ve got your strength back, yeah?”

With that, he’s gone and I know I’m scarlet. “Umm, I think I should put a shirt on.” I hurry over to the other side of the bed and haul on the T-shirt, and it’s amazing how a simple piece of cotton can feel like armour plating. I turn around and face them, and right about now I’d like to wish a big hole could swallow me up. But you don’t wish. Not here. Not ever.

“Right, then. I suppose we should put our cards on the table. Not that I have a table, or cards, but you know what I mean. I meant it, when I said that I don’t know what else to tell you. Buffy, you talked about Giles’ ‘version’ of things. There isn’t any version. There’s just the truth and that’s what we told him. Spike and I got together last year, before Graduation. He helped me plan the attack on the Mayor. He taught me to fight. He taught me that the world isn’t black and white. He taught me how to be happy. And I am. I don’t expect you to like it, but please be happy that I’m happy.” I feel like I’m treading old ground, but sometimes you need to repeat yourself to get the point across. Especially when someone isn’t listening.

“Xander, it’s just…” Buffy’s trying to find the words and I give her the time she needs. “It’s like I said: Spike! I can’t get my head around that. I was so angry - like you’d been thralled or possessed, or something. And that was something I could fight. But seeing you tonight, at the Bronze, looking beyond all the snark and the veiled comments, I realised I was watching you with your boyfriend. And I didn’t like it. Not when the boyfriend in question is Spike. I don’t want to be reasonable. I hate having to reasonable. I want things to be black and white. I know it’s simplistic, but that way I know what to do. I know who the bad guy is. I wanted to come in here and stake Spike and save you from his evil vampy ways. But he’s calling you ‘love’ and he’s planning on getting you presents, and you look so relaxed and content, and now I don’t know what to do.”

She sounds so confused and on impulse I cross the few feet between us and give her a swift, hard hug and she clings to me like she’s going to drown and I’m her only life line. “Welcome to the big, bad world, Buff. It’s kind of scary, but the view is really great, if you just look over the edge. It took me a while to work up the courage, but I’m really glad I took the plunge.” I give her a final hug and she sinks down to sit on the edge of the bed. God, I hope the sheets aren’t too funky.

Through all the drama, I notice Willow hasn’t said a word and as I turn to my best friend, it’s like I’m looking at a stranger. Her face is a mask and for the first time ever, I have no idea what she’s thinking. “Wills? Are we okay?”

She’s got her arms wrapped around her waist and she’s shaking her head at me. “It’s funny; Buffy noticed that he called you ‘love’. But he also called you ‘pet’. Is that what you are, Xander? Some kind of vampire pet? Do you have a collar and a chew toy? Or maybe you’re the chew toy, since it looks like you don’t mind him biting you.” I bring my hand up, instinctively, to finger the small scar on my neck and I can’t believe that she’s making such an intimate moment sound so foul. I want to protest, but she’s on a roll, now. “When he brings back the rope, will he make a nice lead, so he can drag you down to Willy’s and parade you round like some kind of trophy? Big, bad Spike, fucking one of the Slayerettes – bet he’ll dine out on that story for years to come. I suppose that’s the only way he can make sure someone actually stays with him.” I can’t believe the venom that’s coming out of her mouth.

I don’t know this person and I can’t help taking a step back, but there’s a hand on my back and I take comfort that I’ve got at least one friend in the room. “Willow, please? I don’t understand. I expected Buffy to be mad at me, after all the crap I gave her about Angel, but I thought you’d understand. I don’t suppose I expected you to be happy and I knew you’d be worried about me. But like Giles, for my safety. This, this isn’t you. I know it isn’t exactly the same as with me and Spike, but you’ve made your own relationship decisions and I never said you were wrong. I know Oz only goes wolfie three nights a month, but you know what he’s capable of and you’re still together. I know what Spike’s capable of, but I don’t have to lock him up, for him to keep control."

There’s a long silence and as I watch her, I realise I’ve said exactly the wrong thing and the stinging slap across my cheek that comes out of nowhere, confirms it. I bring my hand up slowly to touch my cheek, and I know there’s going to be a bruise and I’m going to have one pissed off vamp on my hands, but that’s for later. Right now I focus on the girl who used to be my best friend and she’s got her hand across her mouth like she’s trying to stop the next wave of vitriol from oozing out. Then she takes one, huge breath and starts to sob and suddenly she’s plastered against my chest, crying like her heart will break. And habit takes over and I hold her ‘til she calms.

Finally she stops, but her head is down and she’s muttering into my shirt and I can’t make her out. “Wills? Talk to me, please. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help.”

She’s shaking her head and I’m not sure if she’s telling me I can’t help, or if she simply doesn’t want to talk, but I’m not taking no for an answer. I push her gently off my chest and push my hand under her chin, ‘til she can’t help looking me in the eye, and she looks so lost. “Willow?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. All those horrible things I said. You looked so happy and you’ve changed and you’re so grown up and confident. Spike looks at you and you’d think all his birthdays had come at once, and I want that. I thought I had that, but it’s all going wrong. And I don’t know what to do.”

I glance back at Buffy, but she looks as confused as me, and I manoeuvre Willow ‘til she’s sitting on the bed as well, and I sink down beside her and take her hand. “Talk to me Wills. What’s going wrong?”

“Oz” The name comes out half strangled, like she can’t bear to say it. “I think he’s cheating on me. I’m sure he’s cheating on me. And I can’t compete. I watch him looking at her, and it’s like he’s hypnotised and he doesn’t see me. I hate it, feeling so helpless and pathetic, and I want to scream at him, but I can’t because it might be the excuse he needs to leave. So I screamed at you instead.” She’s shaking now and Buffy takes hold of her other hand. “Her name’s Verucca and she’s a singer and they talk about amps and chords and things with funny names that I don’t understand. It’s like they have this secret language and I can’t decode it. I feel so stupid.”

“Verucca? Her name’s Verucca! Come on Wills, you can’t seriously feel threatened by a girl named after a kind of wart. Trees are way cooler than warts. You don’t think Oz knows that?” Her breath hitches, but there’s a little hint of a giggle in the background, and it’s a start. “Have you actually talked to Oz, about how you’re feeling?” She shakes her head slightly and I could have predicted the action. “So, Oz is talking to this girl, who he has something in common with, so you’ve built this big scenario in your head.” Another nod. “And if you think about it, Oz doesn’t have any mojo going on, apart from the whole wolfie thing, and you mentioned last night that you’re part of a Wicca group on campus. So that’s a language he doesn’t speak.”

I squeeze her hand and I hope I’m getting through to her. “Willow, it’s okay to have different interests and know other people. God knows, Spike didn’t come to the UFO museum with me. It wasn’t his thing, and that’s okay. Talk to Oz; tell him how you’re feeling. If this warty chick really is a threat, then it’ll be a shot across the bows, to show that you’re watching. If it’s just a music thing, then at least he’ll know that you’re feeling excluded. Okay?”

I give her a brief hug and she smiles tremulously at me. “How come you got so smart, mister?”

I look across at Buffy and she grins at me. “It’s funny; I asked him exactly the same thing. Personally, I think he got taken over by the pod people when he visited Roswell!”

“Yeah, well, this pod person really does need to get some sleep, before I start job hunting tomorrow, and I’m guessing you two have class in the morning.” I push myself up off the bed and out of the corner of my eye I can see some stains that I really hope the girls didn’t notice. Buffy stands at the same time and we pull Willow to her feet between us.

“So, Wills, you’re going to talk to Oz tomorrow? Tell him how you’re feeling, be honest and with any luck he’ll be honest back. If he really is into this other chick, then you deserve to know the truth and we’ll be here for you. If it’s just a music thing, then he can put your mind at ease. Right?”

She nods and wipes the evidence of previous tears from her face. “Check, tomorrow, Oz, honesty, I can do that.”

“Good.” I squeeze her hand, one last time, and let go. “But Willow, remember, this grown up thing works two ways. Just because you’re upset, doesn’t give you the right to be cruel to anyone else. I’m your friend and I understand, but Spike won’t. Bear that in mind.” She looks shocked that the care bear moment is so suddenly over, but as I glance over at Buffy, she’s nodding and I think she really does get it.

“Oh, and Buffy, tell Riley from me, if he really does want to have a chance with the equal first coolest chick on campus, he’s going to have to spend less time answering distress calls from his buddies and more time being prospective boyfriend material. If you want, I could ask Spike to go round and give him some tips!”

The look on her face is kind of sappy, ‘til I mention the last bit, and all at once she looks horrified. “And on that note, we really need to be going. My life is far enough into bizarro land without getting dating tips from the evil undead. And he is Xander – evil and undead, I mean. He’s making you happy, but one wrong move and he won’t see me coming.”

“I know, it’s what you do. If it makes you feel any better, Giles said the same thing, except his threats included long drawn out torturing and lots of begging, rather than a quick one, two with a stake.”

I kiss them both on the cheek and walk them to the door and, as I watch them disappear into the night, I can’t help wondering if I made a mistake to come back here. Only a week or so in and I’m already doing my world famous emotional life raft impression, but this is the last time. I know I’ll always be there, if I’m really needed, but the girls really have to learn how to swim on their own.

I wander back over to the bed and slump down. Bliss. I can’t be bothered getting undressed again, so I just stretch out on top of the sheets and close my eyes. My cheek is throbbing where Willow hit me and that’s so going to be a conversation piece in the morning. But I’ll face that when it happens. For now I’m going to lie here and guess what kind of present a Master Vampire gets for his boyfriend, on the Hellmouth. As long as it doesn’t have tentacles, I’ll be happy.


	9. Realisations 8 : Nowhere but Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander gets his present

_  
**Realisations 8 : Nowhere but Here**   
_   


I thought Spike would be here when I woke up. It’s funny how used I’ve become to my wake up call – a cool, hard body curled round mine, hands wandering, manipulating and making me whimper and groan. Now that’s what I call an alarm clock, but for some reason it didn’t ring today. I rise slowly into consciousness and realise that I’m on my own and my danger monitor goes into overdrive. I’m on my own, which means Spike’s not here. He’s never, not here, not when we’re together and I’m sure that made sense somewhere in my head. But I know it’s a constant, like in physics or something. What if he was hurt? What if he’s left? What if he’s making me choose between him and the girls? What if he’s dust? Can’t think that! Won’t think that!

I’m starting to panic in earnest when I see the sheet of paper tacked to the bed head, and I force myself to breathe as I pull the tack from the wood. The paper is thick under my fingers, expensive and textured, and I stare at it for a moment. But as I unfold the note, the copperplate writing is so familiar and it pulls me back to myself.

 _Morning, love. Sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke. Go to the Dolphin Cafe on the beach and get yourself some breakfast. You’ll get more information then._

Okay, now I’m officially freaked. If Spike left the message, why didn’t he stay? If he got caught in the dawn and had to take cover, how did someone else get in? And really, am I comfortable that someone else was in the room while I was asleep? Okay, not panicking. Definitely not panicking here. I’m calm as a calm thing in calm land – not.

I look round and notice there’s a new pair of jeans and a shirt I don’t recognise lying over one of the kitchen chairs. Okay, now things are getting officially weird. Either Spike was here, and for some surreal, vampy reason, all of his own, he didn’t wake me, or else he’s got some makeover guy who’s really, really light on his feet, and has a key to my motel room, to leave me a new wardrobe, and now, officially, I’m back to panicking guy.

Taking another deep breath I reread the note. It’s definitely Spike’s handwriting. It always amazes me that someone who drops so many personal pronouns, writes like someone out of Dickens. Not that I’ve actually read any Dickens, but I can imagine that’s how their writing would look. It makes me think about what Giles said – that it’s all an image, a costume that Spike wears and I think he’s probably right. As the thought occurs, I stare at the chair by the door and finally decode what I’m seeing. Spike’s duster, hanging over the back of the chair, but no Spike? I scramble off the bed, and feeling a bit guilty, start to go through the pockets, but there’s no cigarettes and no Zippo and the mystery deepens. Okay, no point standing around here, wondering. If he wants me to go out and have breakfast by the beach, then that’s what I’ll do. It’s not exactly a hardship to sit in the sun and watch the school girls walk by. No doubt the reason for the smoke and mirrors will become clear, when he’s good and ready.

Mind made up, I strip out of last night’s clothes and shove them in the ‘to wash’ pile. Note to self; don’t sleep in your clothes on top of sheets that are going a bit iffy. I might have to leave the maid a bigger tip today. I head for the shower, but the water is only luke warm and I don’t linger. Teeth cleaned and hair rubbed clear of excess water, I wander back into the main room and reach for the clothes on the chair. The jeans are softer than the ones I normally wear, lighter and slightly faded in all the right places. Just right for that archetypal Cali look. Snug, but not too snug. The shirt is silk, something I recognise from my Cordy days, but not a fabric I’ve ever actually worn. It’s chocolate brown and as I pull it on, over slightly damp skin, I can almost hear Spike’s smoky voice talking dirty in my ear and I can’t help shivering. A new pair of black sneakers completes the look and I wish there was a proper mirror in the room, ‘cause I really want to check out the effect.

Grabbing my wallet and the motel key, I take one last look at the duster and head out into the morning sunshine. It’s just starting to warm up, but from the look of the sky, it’s definitely shaping up to be a classic late summer California day and walking down towards the board walk, I realise that I’ve missed moments like this, and I wonder if that’s what this is about – Spike making me go out in the sun, because he knows damn fine I’ve been spending practically every hour since we got back together on vampire time.

It’s the end of the season and the small beach café is barely half full and I snag a table by the edge of the deck and give equal attention to the breakfast menu and the cute waitress taking next door’s order. Hmm, I know I’m gay, but it doesn’t stop me appreciating art when I see it, and her legs in those Daisy Dukes are definitely works of art. She winks as she comes over with the coffee pot and I wonder why I could never get girls like that to notice me when I was straight. It’s like I’ve got a sign round my neck saying I’m safe. Maybe it’s the shirt. Okay, mind on the matter in hand – orange juice, pancakes with raspberries and I think I’ll be good to go. Go where, is another matter, but I’ll worry about that on a full stomach. She sways provocatively as she moves towards the order counter and I can’t help tracking every movement – me and every other guy in the place. As she leans down to pick up a fallen order book, there’s a cool breath on the back of my neck.

“If I didn’t know better, love, I might think you were thinking about being unfaithful.”

I push the chair away as I turn round and I’m not sure that I’m really seeing what I’m seeing. Spike! Standing in the café! In daylight! I know I’ve got my mouth open and, as my brain begins to process the information, my legs start to go and he catches my arm and pushes me gently back into my seat. “Easy, pet. You’re too young to have a heart attack.”

“But, but, you’re…you’re here, in the daylight, all not crispy. Not that I’m not glad you’re not crispy, because crispy boyfriends are so not on my ‘wish list’, but I don’t understand. How did you…?”

He pulls up a chair next to me and lays a finger across my mouth, sliding one cool digit across my bottom lip. “Hush, love. Wanted to give you a bit of a surprise.”

“Surprise? Well you did that. Good job! Surprise definitely given.”

“Nice to see you in the sun, pet. You’re all glowing and even warmer than normal. I like that.”

I know I’m still staring at him like I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing and he just smirks and watches me. It’s definitely my Spike – black T-shirt and jeans and bleached hair, but somehow without the leather, he looks softer, but just as hot. I’m just contemplating why the duster makes such a difference when the waitress is back with the pancakes. She smiles at Spike and he lets his eyes slide down her body from top to toe in one long look. All of a sudden she’s not so attractive and I can’t help scowling as he smiles and refuses a menu. Damn hussy can get her predatory paws off my man.

“Eat your breakfast, pet. Enjoy. I’ll explain what this is about.”

“Okay. Eat and listen, I can do that.”

I start to cut up the pancakes and he steals a raspberry and grins at me. “Ever heard of the Gem of Amarra?” I shake my head but I figure it’s probably a rhetorical question. “How about the ‘Amorous Jewel’?”

I stop eating for a moment and stare at him. “That’s the thing Buffy was talking about and then Giles mentioned it the other night, right?”

“Right, pet. Well I found it. Took a bit of digging, literally, in an old crypt. I’ve been researching it for the last few months and finally got a lead on it.” He brings his right hand up and lays it flat on the table and on his middle finger there’s a ring. A really ugly ring.

“Wow, is that what all the best dressed demons are wearing this season?”

“Most of them wish they were, love. Got some very interesting properties, this ring has, including as you’ve probably guessed, allowing vamps to walk in the daylight.”

The enormity of the implications crash over me – no more having to skulk around in the dark. We can have a normal relationship, like we’re doing now, sitting on the beach, talking and having breakfast. I start to laugh for sheer joy, then the other side of the coin hits me and the laugh dies in my throat. “And Giles knew you were looking and was okay with this? I mean, it’s wonderful, but imagine the consequences, if someone evil got a hold of it. Not that you’re not evil, cause you are, but…”

“Sssh, love. I know what you mean. That’s why your Giles said he trusted me to mind how I felt about you, if I found the gem. Wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Ever. I just want some time in the sun with my boy. Selfish maybe, but not evil.”

“My present. This is my present?”

“Got it in one, pet.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come and walk on the beach with me. We’ll find a sheltered spot and watch the waves come in and maybe I could work on my tan.”

“Oh yeah, sounds like my sort of plan.” I shovel the last few bits of pancake into my mouth and as the harpy waitress wiggles by, I shove the money for the breakfast into her hand with a brief nod. Her legs aren’t that good and you can see the start of the cellulite under her shorts. Spike is waiting by the steps down to the beach and, from the look on his face, he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

************************

Look at my boy, bouncing like he’s just been promised a quart of his favourite ice cream. So much a little kid one minute and then I look at the muscles moving under the sheen of the silk and he’s all man. Looked so bloody perfect this morning, sprawled across the bed, still in his jeans and T-shirt from the night before, but in sleep, somehow, it made him seem even more exposed and I had to force myself not to curl round him and follow him into sleep. But for once I had a plan that I wanted to work. Wanted to surprise him, see the look in his eyes when he realised that we could have our time in the sun. So I left, and watched and waited, and now every plan in the future could go down the Swanee, if I can just have this one day.

I hold out my hand as he approaches and, as our fingers curl together, I notice that the waitress is watching us, something like horniness and jealously warring on her face and I can’t help pulling my boy close and kissing him gently on the lips. And as I feel him melt under my touch, I know that nothing and no-one else matters. “Come on, love, let’s take that walk.”

We walk down toward the beach and as the boardwalk gives way to sand, he pauses and hauls off the sneakers and after a brief moment I bend down and unlace my Docs. And he watches me.

“It’s funny, I’ve seen you naked so many times, but seeing you here, now with bare feet in the sand, in the sunshine, I kind of think it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, pet. Wait ‘til you see me completely naked, in the sand, in the sunshine. We’ll see what you say then.”

It’s like his mind has gone into overload, ‘cause for a moment he just stares at me then, bugger me, he starts to laugh. “Hmm, Spike, I don’t want to burst the bubble because, god knows, this is perfect, but I think you’ve seen ‘From Here to Eternity’ one too many times. I mean, I know Burt Lancaster doesn’t get naked, but rolling around on the beach, especially in the surf – can I just say: sand in places you really don’t want to have sand.”

“Yeah, well, this is kind of new territory for me, pet. But you can’t fault the imagery, can you?”

“Naked Spike, on hot sand – nope, certainly can’t fault the pretty picture.”

We continue along the beach and, every so often, I can’t help stopping and soaking up the feeling of the warm sand between my toes. Walked on enough beaches in my time, but always in the darkness and the sand was always cold and damp under foot, not like this. It’s different like this. My Dru looked beautiful in the moonlight by the sea, but my Xan, he’s glowing and I feel like I could touch the sun, just by looking at him.

“Spike, are you with me? You kind of went away a bit there.”

“Sorry, love, it’s just a long time since I walked in the sun, it’s overwhelming.”

“Yeah, I suppose we take it a bit for granted. Sorry, when we were away, I didn’t mean to rub your face in it, when I come back after a day out and about.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, love. And I’m not going to have any worries, or apologies, or such, spoil today, so let’s just enjoy the moment.” I want to ask about the bruise on his cheek, it wasn’t there when I left last night, so it has to have something to do with the girls, but I hold my peace for now. I’m not going to have the little chicks ruin this moment.

We wander a bit further, round the point, away from the hustle and bustle of the beach and as we turn a corner, there’s a perfect sheltered spot between two sand dunes and my boy sinks down and pulls me beside him. I take a handful of sand and let it run through my fingers and I think this is probably the closest thing to heaven this demon is ever going to get. “Well then, love, looks like we’ve found our spot.”

“Yeah, I like this bit. I sometimes used to come and watch the ocean here if I wanted some peace and quiet. It’s so calm, even when the wind is up, and the only disturbance comes from the odd jogger running along the path at the top of the dunes, but it’s a bit late in the season for that now.”

I ease down in the warm sand and watch him as he gazes out at the ocean. Then he turns and smiles at me and for a moment I wonder why I bothered with the ring, I can see the sunlight anytime I like, just by looking at him. Christ, I’m such a sap! And suddenly the smile turns into a grin and it’s like he knows exactly what I’m thinking as he turns and crawls the short distance towards me. “You were getting all gooey, weren’t you? I can tell the way your eyes get that far away look.”

“Git, come here and give us a kiss.”

“You think you deserve a kiss, do you?”

“Deserve a whole lot more than that, pet. But I’ll settle for a bit of a snog for now.”

He hovers over me, shaking his head. “You know, you do the big grandiose gesture with the magical doodah, create a romantic mood with the sun and the sand and the surf, and then you tell me you want a ‘snog’. It’s not exactly Shakespeare is it?”

"Yeah, well, William liked the Sonnets, I’m more of a Titus Andronicus bloke.”

“And why do I get the feeling that I shouldn’t ask?”

“Because you’re a smart boy, pet. So, about that snog?”

He shakes his head again, but then leans down and starts to nibble on my bottom lip. Just flicking his tongue back and forth, teasing and touching. Then the tip traces a line across my top lip before easing slowly into my mouth. I slide one hand round the back of his head and pull him hard towards me, ‘til he’s straddling my lap and the minutes seem to hang in space as we suckle and stroke. His mouth is hotter than the sand under our feet and I feel like I could burn any minute. The temperature’s rising and I can feel him hard against my own aching crotch.

“You’re going to be the death of me, love.” He’s coming back with a smart answer when I reach down and palm the front of his jeans, pressing the hard metal into his prick and he shudders.

“Shit, don’t do that again. Or maybe do. I don’t know.” He’s struggling for breath, but as I start to pull down his zip, he grabs hold of my hand. “We can’t. Not here, in public. What if somebody sees?”

Interesting, after all the things we’ve done, seems like he still has a few inhibitions left. Time to work on that. “Sssh, love. No one here to see. Just want to make you feel good. But if it makes you feel better, let’s change places, yeah?” I roll us over so that he’s now on the bottom and then pull him towards me so that I’m sitting in his lap. “There, pet. Even if someone comes along the walk they’re not going to see that it’s you, okay?” He looks uncertain for a moment, and then embarrassed that he’d made a fuss, but it’s okay. Sometimes I forget how young he still is.

I finish the movement with his zip and his hard length is a lovely sight, jutting out of the worn denim. I run my thumb lightly over the head, smearing the leaking moisture down to the root and then bring my hand up and lick the remainder off my thumb. His eyes are fixed on my mouth and his breath is coming in hard, short pants and I think the inhibitions of a moment ago are more or less gone. His hands seem to have a mind of their own as they creep towards the top of my jeans and as I cant my hips slightly into his touch, he groans and hauls at the zip like an impatient kid opening presents on Christmas Day. Christ, I thought I was hard before, but as he scrapes a nail along the vein, I finally understand how sand turns into glass.

I pull him towards me again, biting at his bottom lip and committing every taste and touch to memory. His eyes are wide and black and his heart is beating like he’s running a marathon. “Love you, pet. Always going to remember this. Loved Dru, even loved Angelus, in my own way, but not like this. Nowhere in the world I’d rather be than right here, right now. Got to believe me, love.”

“I believe you. I wouldn’t believe I could have someone who makes me feel like this, if they didn’t feel the same way back.” He’s tilting his hips, sliding his cock against mine and the drag of flesh against flesh creates a heavenly syncopation to the harshness of his breath. “Want to see you, blondie. You got me this present and it’s the best thing I’ve ever had. But now I want the whole thing. Show me the other side, Spike. Show me that a vampire can walk in the sun. Please.”

Thrust and slide, drag and pull, skin meets skin as bones shift and crunch and he runs his fingers against a different face. “So beautiful. Different, exotic, but still you. Still love you.” I grab both our cocks in one fist and start to pull as he leans forward and runs his tongue down a fang, and I shudder under the caress. There’s a vague noise on the periphery of my senses, but I’m so focused on the moment, on this boy, that I dismiss the fleeting sensation. I’m so close, and as his hips push up towards me, he tilts his head to the side and it’s the only invitation I need.

Bodies shake and shudder as my teeth pierce into the delicate skin at his neck, marking and re-marking, ownership and belonging. He’s whimpering, high at the back of his throat, as he comes down from his high, and the earlier sound is suddenly loud in my ear. A stone skitters from the top of the dune and as I look up, it’s the Slayer’s Iowa boy, staring down at us, frozen, a mixture of horror, disgust and maybe just a hint of desire on his face. I hold his gaze for a moment and then time becomes liquid again and he takes to his heels.

I watch the top of the dune for a moment, but there’s nothing but silence and the lapping of waves at our back. I lick delicately at the small wounds in tanned flesh and rub circles on his back as he comes back to me. “Well, love, I think that was another one for the diary, yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Wish I’d brought my camera.” He slumps back onto the sand and pulls me down to lie next to him and it’s no hardship. “You know, we’re at the beach, like we’re on vacation. I feel like we should send a postcard or something.”

“Could do, pet. Anyone in particular you want to send one to?”

“Don’t know, at the moment. But give me time to recover and I’ll think of something. Not sure what I’d put, though. It wouldn’t be ‘Wish You Were Here’, ‘cause right now I don’t want anyone spoiling this moment. Not even the girls. Does that make me selfish?”

He rolls on his side and I mimic the movement. “Not selfish, pet. Just content.” And that’s the way I want him. There’s no need for him to know about our little witness. Not yet anyway. I pull him towards me and kiss him again and he melts under the touch. My boy’s thinking about sun and sand and sending postcards, and it makes me think that tomorrow I might deliver a personal postcard of my own.


	10. Realisations 9: On the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander attends a research party at Giles' place

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**Realisations 9: On the Edge**   
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It’s kind of funny how your perceptions change. Maybe it’s an age thing? Or a 'having been away from Sunnydale' thing? Or maybe it’s a ‘having an incredibly hot boyfriend who shagged me silly on a public beach in broad daylight’ kind of thing. Oh yeah, an incredibly hot, undead boyfriend who has a magical doodah that allows him to do said shagging on a public beach in broad daylight. And wouldn’t the girls just flip about that. I’m still amazed Giles gave Spike a pass on looking for the Gem, but it’s weird how they seemed to reach an understanding. Not that I’m knocking understandings, but still – weird. Guess Spike is right and there’s more to Giles than we ever bothered to look for. And that brings me right back to the beginning – it’s all about perceptions’.

Thinking about the gang, objectively, we really are a strange bunch. I wonder why I never really noticed before? An ex-librarian with a penchant for tweed, tea and early Eric Clapton when he thinks no one is around to hear. A bottle blonde ex-cheerleader and number one saviour of the world from all the things that go bump in the night. A former doughnut boy with aforementioned undead lover. (The undead lover who vehemently declined to attend this little shindig. Not that I blame him, he’s not exactly flavour of the month with the girls, even if they aren’t actively trying to stake him. I offered to blow off the research and go with him, but he just said he had to go and pay someone a little social call. Probably means he’s at Willy’s beating something up, again!) And last, but definitely not least, there’s my childhood best friend, super hacker and fledgling Wicca.

I’m worried about Wills. She’s sitting in the corner, looking all researchy, but I can tell her mind is anywhere but on the latest possible apocalypse. I’ve worn the same glazed look far too often not to recognise the pose on someone else. She’s split up with Oz. She took my advice and confronted him about the warty chick. Turned out she was a Were, as well, and there was a whole animal attraction thing going on. I don’t believe he meant to hurt Wills, but he left before he could do something he’d regret. And now she’s on her own and she’s hurting anyway, and I can’t help feeling that she blames me for making her stand up and face her fears, instead passively waiting for things to happen. It was so much simpler when we were younger and she was upset. I’d let her play doctor, or lend her the latest Wonder Woman and it would all be better, but now I’m struggling to find anything that will help. She’s hardly said a word since I dropped by the dorm room to collect her. She just smiled a brave little toaster smile and blew out her incense sticks and her candles. I nearly said something about the dangers of having candles burning on the floor, but I didn’t want to sound like her father, because that’s an image that could produce enough emotional traumas to last for the next couple of years.

I thought about buying her some flowers to cheer her up. It would be an adult thing to do, but I’d probably only buy the wrong thing. I know flowers are meant to have meaning and I’d probably get something that meant ‘misery, woe and eternal despair’, which would kind of make things worse. I remember Mrs Gonzales next door giving me some flowers out of her garden to give to ‘that nice girl’ she’d seen me with. Cordy was so not impressed with a home tied bunch of Dahlia’s and Marigolds. Accused me of being too cheap to buy proper flowers from the florist, so yeah, flowers and cheering up recently split up best friends is probably not the way to go.

“Xander? Xander?” Oops, here’s me thinking about Wills being spaced out and I’ve been caught myself.

“Sorry, Giles. Guess I drifted a bit. Got to say, having the new mature attitude thing going on, still doesn’t mean any of these books are actually interesting!”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re probably correct in your conclusion, Xander, but riveting or not, your attention would be appreciated. I’ve been a little disturbed to hear rumours of a lot of unrest in demonic circles of late. Something is either happening, or going to happen, and I would like to double check all the relevant volumes for any prophecies which we might have overlooked.”

“Sure thing, Giles. Just call me prophecy guy! I don’t want the world to end just yet. I’ve got an interview at a construction site tomorrow, so I’d rather we put ‘Hell on Earth’ on ice ‘til I’ve at least got the job and hopefully collected my first pay cheque.”

I glance across at Willow and normally she’d be bouncing at the idea of me being all productive employment man, but she’s still got the same vague expression on her face and I’m surprised Giles hasn’t called her on it. Maybe he’s just giving her a pass after the whole break up thing. “Wills? Earth to Willow”

“Huh!”

“How you doing, Wills? Tracked down the latest big bad in that musty tome of yours?”

“Umm, no.” She’s trying to put on her brightest voice, but I can hear the hitch in her throat and I know she’s desperately trying not to cry.

Just as I’m about to say more, Giles puts another leather bound book down on the table in front of us and I grimace at Willow and cross my eyes. “Guess, we’ll just have to keep looking then, eh?”

She glares at the book and then at Giles’ retreating back as he disappears into the kitchen and I think I’ve just seen the last straw in action. The tone of her voice as she starts to speak just confirms the thought. “You know, I’m sick of this. I know we’re here to fight the good fight and save the world and help Buffy, but why don’t we get to do normal stuff as well? Like go on dates, and have normal boyfriends, and go parking without the risk of being eaten.” She’s starting to get shrill and I stand up slowly and start to move round the table when she points her finger at me. “And you can stop right there, mister. I know the routine. You’re going to come over here and give me a hug and tell me it’s okay to get upset and it’s better to get it out, and that it’ll get easier over time and my friends are all here for me.”

Wow she’s good. “Okay, so that was scarily accurate, but you have known me for a long time Wills, so you’ve got a pretty good take on what I was going to say. But I was also going to say that you can’t beat yourself up about confronting Oz. You couldn’t have lived your life with your head in the sand. It was eating you up, wondering whether he was cheating on you. And it’s like I said before, if it was just a music thing, you needed to let him know that you were feeling excluded. And okay, it turned out that he wasn’t actually cheating physically, but there was a whole werewolfy hormone thing going on and he needed to deal with that. Perhaps leaving Sunnydale to go to Tibet was a bit of an extreme solution, but he was trying to do the right thing. He was trying not to hurt you.”

“Well he did.”

“I know. And he knows that too. I guess he was going for the little hurt now, rather than the big hurt later on. Boy logic I guess, but I can see where he was going with it.” She’s got that look on her face that says ‘I’m allowing you to talk, but it doesn’t mean I’m actually listening’ and for a moment I wonder why I’m bothering.

“But I don’t want logic. I want my boyfriend back. I want things to go back to the way they were. I mean Buffy’s starting to get all cosy with Riley, or at least I think she’d like to, if he didn’t keep getting calls on his pager and having to disappear. I wouldn’t be surprised if her big normal guy had a secret life as well, this being the Hellmouth and all. But at least he’s actually here, which still makes him potential boyfriend material. A couple of uninterrupted dates and she’ll probably want to take him on patrol, or something, and then where will we be? And then there’s you…” Oh god, here it comes!

“What about me, Wills?”

“You’ve been away seeing stuff and you’ve been keeping secrets. We never had secrets, not since we were little. And you’re suddenly gay and you never said and you were leading this double life, back before Graduation and I didn’t know. And you’re sleeping with a vampire! A male vampire. Spike! After all the stuff you said to Buffy about Angel.”

“Wills! The stuff I said about Angel is between me and Buffy and I think we’ve got it sorted. I told you, I didn’t intentionally not tell you about being gay, or seeing Spike, or any of the other stuff. I just didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” I’m beginning to feel like that old Greek guy who had to keep pushing the rock up the hill, whenever we get to this bit of the conversation.

“See, you’re doing it again. You’re being all mature and grown up, and that’s just not you. I’m the sensible one. I’m the one who’s all objective and calm about things, and then my boyfriend breaks up with me and suddenly I’m a big, emotional, soggy mess. Before, when things went wrong and we disagreed, I’d bake cookies and we’d talk and things would be okay. But now everyone else is being all adult and stuff and it’s not fair. I hate feeling like this. I just want it to stop. I want things to be back the way they were. I want Oz back. I want my Xander back.”

“Willow, I am your Xander. I always will be. But I’m my Xander too. I’ve grown up a bit, and I’m comfortable with who I am at the moment. And I’m Spike’s Xander too, and that’s not going to change.”

“See, that’s the real problem – Spike! You’ve changed since you’ve been with Spike. And yeah, I’m really happy that you’re comfortable with yourself. That’s great. But you’re sleeping with a vampire, Xander, and it terrifies me. And you know, if Oz thought he had to leave because he was scared he might hurt me on the full moon, where does that leave you with Spike? He’s bitten you, Xander. You let him do it! What happens if next time he doesn’t stop? I just wish you could see that you’re playing with fire. I want to feel like I can look at you and know that you’re not going to be killed by your boyfriend one of these days. He’s dangerous, Xander. I wish he wasn’t so dangerous.

The tears are pouring down her face and I crouch down beside her and give her a hug. “Sssh, it’s okay. I get that you’re worried. It’s nice. But I’m fine. He’s not going to hurt me. If it makes you feel any better, you can give him the shovel talk. He’s already had a version of it from Giles and Buffy, but the original, patented, accept no substitutes ‘Rosenberg shovel talk’ is a thing to make even the biggest Master Vampire quake in his boots. Okay?” She’s nodding against my chest and it’s a pose I can picture in my head right the way back to kindergarten. As I start to dig in my pocket for a handkerchief, a box of tissues appears on the edge of the side table and I look up to see Giles standing hesitantly at the back of the chair, a look of worry and uncertainty on his face. I smile and nod to him and he backs slowly towards the sanctuary of the kitchen. Poor Giles. What did he ever do, to be landed with us?

Detaching Willow’s grip on the front of my now soggy shirt, I hand her a bunch of tissues. “Go on, blow. You’ll feel much better.”

She does as she’s told and takes a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Now, how about we change the subject? Tell me about college life. And how’s the Wicca stuff going?” I don’t really want to talk about it, but it’s the only thing I can think of that doesn’t involve talking about Oz or Spike.

“Classes are good, but the magic stuff, not so good, I think. I mean, I was getting better with some of the low grade spells and stuff. And I’ve been doing my homework. But the last couple of times I’ve tried something it hasn’t worked at all.” She looks at me quickly, peering through soggy eyelashes and then looks away and I wonder what’s coming next. “I know I shouldn’t have, but earlier tonight I did a spell to stop everything hurting so much, but from the last little outburst it obviously didn’t take.” She grins ruefully and it’s so nice to see her smile that I resist the temptation to tell her off for using magic for such personal reasons, but I hadn’t noticed Giles come back into the room, glass of water in hand, and he has no such scruples.

“Willow, exactly what kind of spell did you attempt?” He hands her the water and she takes a sip before answering.

“It was a ‘My Will Be Done’ spell and my will was to stop hurting. And before you say anything, Giles, I know it was stupid. I know I shouldn’t have used magic like that. That it was selfish. That’s probably why it didn’t work.” She looks so earnest and Giles has no defence against big Willow eyes.

“Well, yes, so long as you understand that using magic for personal gain like that is wrong and dangerous. Such a spell may seem innocuous, but if it had worked, it could have latched on to anything you really wanted to happen and made it real. Magic has consequences, you must remember that. Promise me that you won’t try something like that again?”

“It’s okay, Giles, I promise.”

Giles is nodding, his thoughts probably already turning back towards his books, but I watch Willow watching him, and with a shiver I remember the tracking spell she put on me and I wish I was convinced that her promise was genuine. But I don’t know what to say, without opening another can of worms so I let the moment pass. I ease up off my knees and stretch. God, being an emotional crutch is getting harder on the old bones every day.

I’m just starting to debate how I can get out of another hour of research and go and see what Spike’s up to, when Buffy comes breezing through the door and I can almost hear Giles’ inner monologue about whether to bother commenting on the lack of knocking, but in the end he settles for a long sigh and a tired pinch at the top of his nose.

“Hi guys, how’s the research party going?”

“Slowly I’m afraid, Buffy, with a few unscheduled interludes. How was your patrol? Anything of interest I should know about?”

“Restfield was all quiet for a change. Maybe everyone’s on vacation or something?” I’ve got a momentary vision of a family of vamps in swimwear sitting by a pool in Cancun, but Buffy’s still talking and I force myself back to this reality. “One weird thing, though. I was cutting back through Shady View and there was a whole bunch of vamps fighting each other. I thought they were maybe meeting to plan something, so I watched them for a while, but it turned into a real brawl. Pushing and shoving and stuff – everything but hair pulling, but then one of them grabbed a tree branch and started with the staking.”

Well that’s got Giles attention. “Curious. What happened then?”

“Well, I just kind of stood and watched them do my job for me. Once one started dusting, it was sort of a free for all. Finally got to the last man standing, which made the job much easier for me. Not that I’m slacking on the job or anything, but I’m going to need to have all my energy over the next few days for preparing that Thanksgiving dinner I promised you, so if the vamps want to do a little bit of in-house maintenance then it’s all good, as far as I can see.” I can tell Giles isn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of Buffy slaying a poor unsuspecting turkey, but he does his best to look all Watcherly and simply nods at her to continue. “So I just tiptoed in and staked the sucker while he was gloating about being the winner. When the dust settled, I found this lying on the grass. I guess it’s what they must have been fighting over, so I thought you should probably have a look in case it set off the weird-o-meter?”

She sticks her hand in her pocket and pulls out something small and shiny and as Giles moves forward to take it out of her hand, I get a proper view and all of a sudden my legs feel like they won’t support my weight and I fall back heavily on the arm of the chair behind me.

There’s a voice fluttering at the edge of my mind, but all I can see is the image of the stone and I’m not sure how long I sit there, frozen. Then there’s someone shaking my arm and finally I look up and Willow is staring down at me. “Xander? Xander, you okay?”

She hands me the glass of water she discarded earlier and I watch my hands as they shake and I start to put the tumbler down before I spill the liquid over Giles’ precious books. But then a larger hand comes into view and gently takes the glass away and Giles is hunkered down next to me, concern and understanding in his gaze.

“Xander, you know what this is, don’t you?”

I nod faintly, terrified to face the implications. “It’s the Gem of Amara.”

“Yes, it is.” He nods once and turns the ring over in his hand and then looks back at me, keenly. “I’m assuming that his hunt was successful and this isn’t a coincidence, then?”

“Yes. I found out this morning. He surprised me. Giles, we spent the day at the beach.” The look on his face has turned to pity and I focus on the light glinting off his glasses as he quietens the questions pouring from the girls.

“He had it when you parted, yes?”

“Yeah. He said he was going to see someone about a bit of business. That he’d swing by later and collect me, so that I didn’t have to walk back to the motel on my own. God, Giles, we’ve got to do something. He would never part with it willingly. If the ring's here, it can only mean something’s happened to him.”

My head is aching, but as I look at my friends, there’s worry and support from Giles and confusion radiating off Buffy, but then I turn to Willow and just for a fleeting moment there’s something like relief in her face, before she puts on her concerned face, and it hits me.

“The spell? You did a spell. You said you wanted your will to be done. And then you said you wanted your Xander back. That Spike was dangerous and you wished you didn’t have to worry about me having a boyfriend who was so dangerous.” She’s shaking her head, but again I remember the tracking spell and the look on her face when she promised Giles she'd be careful with magic, and for the second time in as many days, my best friend looks like someone I’ve never known.

“Xander, you don’t know that? Spike could have dropped the ring. It could have slipped off his finger. You can’t make assumptions. Please don’t say something you’ll regret.” I can hear in his voice that Giles is trying to be the adult, the voice of reason, but when I look up, his gaze is fixed on Willow and I want to be sick.

“You didn’t see him Giles. Today on the beach - the way he looked when he dug his feet in the warm sand. He’s not always vamp with a plan, I admit, but this was different. This was too important to be careless about. He got the Gem for me, and there’s no way he’d just have dropped it.” I shake off his hand and stand up, and move to stand in front of Willow and she’s just staring at me with wide, oh so innocent eyes, and it’s funny how Willow eyes have lost their power over me. “I’m going to search for Spike. And I will find him! And if he’s hurt and I find out that it is something to do with your spell, then I will come back Willow, and believe me, no amount of cookies will make things right between us, ever again!”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I don’t want to hear it, not now. And before anyone can say another word, I grab my coat and go. Willow can wait, I know where to find her. Now I just have to find my boyfriend, and I pray to anyone who might look after a soulless demon and a love struck teen, that I can find him before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sisyphus was a Greek king who was punished in Tartanus and bound to push a boulder up a steep hill, only to have it roll back to the bottom, and was forced to repeat the action for the rest of eternity.


	11. Realisations 10: Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander worries and Spike gets pissed off

_  
**Realisations 10: Purgatory**   
_   


  
It's been three days now. Three days since Spike disappeared. Three days of tearing Sunnydale apart trying to find him. But there’s nothing. Not a sighting, or a whisper, or a rumour. Just nothing. I don’t know what else to do, and for the first time in months it’s like I’m a useless kid again, and I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

The gang have tried to help. Giles has put out feelers with his contacts in the demon community and Buffy’s been beating up anything that looks a bit shifty, (but only after we’d had a pretty intense conversation about the madness of letting a vamp with Spike’s reputation have the means to walk about in daylight). And there’s still nothing, just this wall of silence and fear. Spike might be the ‘big bad’, and Buffy might be the most successful Slayer in history, but it’s like the whole underbelly of the Hellmouth is scared of something even worse.

I haven’t seen Willow. Buffy said she wanted to come, but she didn’t think I’d want to see her. One of the joys of having a history with someone that goes all the way back to kindergarten – she knows exactly how I tick and that I’m not going to roll over for her. I know damn well she wants to do the ‘cookie thing’, but when she stops the denial and the self justification, I hope she realises just how dangerous her attempts at magic can be. I suppose I shouldn’t have lost my temper with her, and then stormed out of Giles’ place, but the idea that she could have hurt Spike, even accidentally, made me see red. Rationally, I realise that his disappearance probably had nothing to do with her. God knows, there are enough nasties on the Hellmouth and, although I hate to admit it, some of them are bigger and badder than Spike. So, I’m trying to be rational guy. But at the same time, Willow doing the spell and the Gem turning up, is too much of a coincidence for my heart to believe. After the tracking spell, I can’t help being worried by her casual attitude to magic. It’s like she’s decided that the end justifies the means and sod the ethics of the situation. It’s funny how things change, because before we learned about the darker side of Sunnydale, and she discovered magic, I would have sworn that Willow was the most ethical person I knew. I just hope Giles can stop the rot, before it goes too far, but I can’t help my gut feeling that she is, somehow, responsible and I have no idea how I’m going to react the next time I see her.

It’s funny, I love Willow like a sister, but there’s a little cynical voice that sounds just like a certain blond vampire, whispering that she’d be pleased that I’m worrying about her, for whatever reason, instead of focusing on Spike. I take a breath and push the thoughts about Willow aside and focus on the important stuff. Spike – he’s the important one, but, until now, I don’t think I realised just how essential he was. I’ve never been in love before, so I didn’t have a benchmark to measure against, and now I know that no one else will ever come close and there’s a crazy little part of my heart that’s so glad I got to feel that way, but I can’t listen to it because it’s too much like accepting that I’ve lost the source of the feeling forever.

Slumping down on the edge of the bed, I look wearily around the motel room and for the first time I realise how completely grotty the place is. It’s funny, with Spike here, I kind of didn’t notice, but now the dubious bedcover and the cracked lino and the ratty drapes make me realise how crappy it is and I can’t help realising how Giles and the girls must have felt, when they were here. No wonder they thought Spike was dragging me down. It’s difficult to explain to them that when he’s here, I don’t see anything else.

I miss him so much and I don’t know what to do. The anger that gave me the courage to go to Willy’s, and the other obvious places, has long burned out and the crushing fear that’s left, makes me feel that I’m weighed down in deep water and I know that I’m failing him. I just need to sleep for a bit, only for a couple of hours and then I’ll get back out there. I’ve got to keep trying until I find him and when I do, I’m never letting him out of my sight again.

**********************

Fuck, my head hurts. Haven’t felt this crap since the last time Dru got me some Fyarlian brandy as a death day present. She went on and on about how it was Daddy’s favourite tipple, that he could drink it for days and play such pretty games with her. Wanker! Thought I’d show her how a real man held his drink. Forgot Daddy had a head like a lump of concrete, when it comes to alcohol – fucking Irish bogtrotter.

Kind of appropriate thinking about my plonker of a Sire – military, secret projects, grand bloody plans; might as well be back on that sodding submarine. I know it was a different time place, but these arseholes are all the same under the uniform. Nazi’s, Fascists, Watchers and the whole bloody alphabet soup lot, they’ve all been tapped into the same bloody gossip over the years. But they call it ‘Intelligence’ and that’s a bloody joke in itself. I thought they’d have learned their lesson, but gits like this never learn. Always too focused on the next bit of bright and shiny – magic; technology; whatever… It doesn’t matter, as long as they’re the ones in control. That’s what they really want – control. And boy do they love proving that they’ve got it. Not sure how long I’ve been here, but I’m damn sure it’s been more than a couple of days, and they’ve had their fun making the point. If I wasn’t on the receiving end, I could almost applaud the elegance of the thing - take something you fear and make it powerless to defend itself against the things it sees as prey. Bloody brilliant – if it wasn’t happening to me.

Don’t remember much about the first day, I was in and out of it, just flashes of metal and plastic and the slick, high sound of a drill. Woke up in this white box, like a hamster in a damn cage, except most hamsters get their kibble and the bastards just ignored me. I’m not sure what day it was; second, maybe third, when the damn soldiers appeared and opened the door. Just the one came in, while the others stood watching, like they were waiting for a circus act to start, or something. Never was one for turning down a free meal, but now I understand the thing about gift horses and mouths. Bastards! Fucking, miserable bastards! They just stood there and laughed. Then one of them started telling me about the chip. Standing there, so damn smug, with his crew cut and his jackboots, talking about neutering demons and making Sunnydale a safer place. When I get out of here, he’ll definitely be at the top of my list and there won’t be a safe enough place in the world for him to hide. He gave a whole spiel about expected behaviour from ‘Hostiles’ while they ‘enjoyed’ the hospitality of the facilities. Whole bunch of dos and don’ts, and I do wonder if they’ve got a little booklet with them translated into a pile of demonic languages, like when you get the user guide for a new Tele. I tried to look interested, ‘cause you can never have too much information about how the enemy thinks, but whoever wrote this crap was a long winded bugger and by the time soldier boy’d got to rule number seven, I'd given up even pretending to listen. Didn’t like that at all, but I wasn’t in the mood to please.

My main worry, is my boy. If they’re smart enough to put two and two together, they might go after him and the thought makes my flesh crawl. I know he’ll be worried sick about where I am. I can almost picture him now, pacing that grotty little room, trying to work out what to do. He’s a brave little bugger and I know damn fine he’ll have badgered his little gang of white hats into helping look, and I also know that old Rupert has more contacts with the demon community than he lets on to the Slayer, but it’s not going to do any good. This lot have got a decent lockdown on communications. They may be evil, meddling bastards, but you’ve got to be impressed with the discipline. Since I’ve been back to Sunnydale, I heard some rumours about the odd demon disappearing, but that’s the normal order of things – eat or get eaten, so I didn’t think anything of it. Maybe should have kept my ear to the ground a bit more. Lesson to be learned for when I get out of here. And I will get out of here! It’s going to take more than a few ponces in white coats and a couple of commando wannabees to keep William the Bloody down. Got to get out. Got to make sure my boy’s alright. Then we’re jumping in the car and driving as far and as fast from the Hellmouth as we can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**  
>  The sharp eyed amongst you will probably have noticed my little tribute to [](http://rakshathewolf.livejournal.com/profile)[**rakshathewolf**](http://rakshathewolf.livejournal.com/) ’s Nexus. I reread it a while ago and the chapters with the brandy always make me shiver like hell, and the ‘morning after’ chapter where Angelus realised what he’s done always makes me sniffle. It’s just damn fine storytelling, folks!


	12. Realisations 11: The Seventh Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike gets out, but doesn’t necessarily make things better!

_  
**Realisations 11: The Seventh Circle**   
_   


Bastard soldiers, wait ‘til I get this bloody bit of metal out of my head, then I’ll show them why I got my nickname. Got lucky getting out, but in the end they always put the stupid ones on guard duty and a smart man always grabs the opportunity when it arises. The fact that the opportunity was a seven foot bit of lime green blubber didn’t make it any less useful. And who in their right mind would do escort duty in a cellblock full of demons with just a poncy little zap stick and a pop gun to protect them. Arrogant, always bloody arrogant, and that’s why I’ll always get the better of them, chip or no fucking chip.

Had to do a bit of bobbing and weaving to keep out of sight, once I got out. They may not be the sharpest knives in the box, but it doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous when they’re hunting in packs. Anything is dangerous when they’re in a pack, that’s something my boy reminded me when he told me about his little adventure at the zoo a couple of years back. I sometimes think it’s a pity the Watcher got rid of the hyena, it would have made a nice little edge to all that new confidence he’s got these days. But I know he wouldn’t want it. Spent too much time in his life having other people telling him what to do. Doesn’t need a little spotted whisperer pushing at the back of his brain.

It’s taken me a while to find my way back, even though the town isn’t that big. Did a detour through most of the cemeteries, laying false trails, picking up the rumours and the signs. After an hour, I figured it was as safe as it was going to get and headed for home. I never thought I’d be so glad to see that crappy motel we're staying in. Okay, it's better than the warehouse from the last time I was on the Hellmouth, but I was going to persuade him to find something a bit better. Something with a few more comforts and a few less roaches. But looking at the peeling paint on the thin plywood door and the dirty windows, I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to see anything in my life. There’s a thin, watery light oozing between the tattered drapes and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My boy is here and that’s what matters.

I turn the handle slowly and as the door gives under my hand I make a mental note to give him a bollocking for leaving it unlocked in this god forsaken place. He knows better than that. Pushing forward, I slide into the half light and he’s there on the bed, curled up in a dirty pair of jeans and a T-shirt that’s riding half way up his back. He’s got an arm thrown across an old leather bound book and on the floor there’s a map of the town with sections highlighted, and a sheaf of hand written notes in Latin. He’s been busy, doing his research, doing his homework, and from the looks of the shadows under his eyes and the tangles in his hair, he’s hardly slept since I disappeared. I want to slide next to him on the bed, immerse myself in his warmth and follow him into sleep, but there’s still the possibility the motel is being watched. None of the soldier boys mentioned him, but I can’t help thinking back to the day on the beach when the farm boy saw us jacking off and me biting Xan. I know corn bred and the Slayer have been dancing round each other like dogs in heat, but I’m not sure if he knows about the nightlife. Didn’t given an indication of anything other than being a bit homophobic that night at the Bronze, but he could either be dense or a lot deeper than he comes across. I didn’t see him amongst the soldiers, but there’s something about the haircut and the way he holds himself and the ‘yes maam’ attitude that makes my fangs itch. So, better safe than sorry, my boy can’t stay here, it isn’t safe. I resist the temptation to be a soppy git and kiss away the frown lines on his forehead, so I settle for bending down and shaking him lightly by the shoulder.

He mutters in his sleep and clutches harder at the edges of the book, like sheer force of will could extract the answers he’s looking for from the yellowed pages, and I shake him again ‘til his eyes flutter open and he blinks at me blearily.

“Hey, sleepy. Time to get up. Got to get out of here, in case I was followed.”

He just stares, looking like he’s seen a ghost and all its ancestors. “Spike?” He drags one knuckle across a blood shot eye and shakes his head like he’s trying to get rid of a three day hangover. “Spike? Oh god!” He launches himself up before I can even blink and I would have sworn that someone so exhausted could never have moved so quickly.

I stand there for a moment as he throws his arms around my neck and whispers nonsense into my neck, and as he comes up for air, I glide my hands up his back, seeking as much reassurance that this is real. “Sorry, pet. I didn’t mean to leave you. Didn’t get much of a choice, but I’m back now and I’ve got you. Not going to leave you again. Promise.”

His eyes are bright with the tears he’s probably been bottling up for days, but he just stands clinging to the back of my duster, like I might disappear in a puff of smoke at any minute. “God, I was so scared. I knew you weren’t dead. I knew you’d come back if you could. But I looked everywhere. Asked everyone I could think of, but there was just this silence and I didn’t know if no one knew anything, or if they were just too scared to talk. I even got Giles following up leads from Willy, and Buffy beat up a few of the less savoury elements of the Hellmouth, to see what we could drum up, but there was nothing. What happened? Where were you? Are you alright?”

The words are tumbling out of his mouth, so many questions, so many complications and I know he needs an answer to every one, but not now and not here.

“Xander, love. Listen to me. We have to move. I’ll give you all the answers you need, but right now we have to move from here. It might not be safe. I might have been followed, or even worse, you might have been watched. So be a good boy and gather your stuff and we’ll get going.” He’s looking like he’s going to protest and I lean forward and give him a quick, hard kiss. “Please, love, just do it.”

He stares at me for a moment, then nods once, let’s go reluctantly, and begins to stuff things in his duffle. He’s not got much and it doesn’t take long to put stuff together when your packing style is ‘crumple and shove.’ Five minutes and then he’s back in front of me, and there’s a thousand questions in his eyes, but he only asks one: “Where are we going?”

“Eventually, away from the Hellmouth, but there’s some things I need to do first. Questions I need answered. Remember the Crombec who stored your car for you?” He nods slowly. “Going to hole up there for a while. They’re a peaceful clan, never want any trouble, but they’ve always got their ears to the ground, all three of them, so I reckon they’re the best source of Intel we’ve got. And they’ve got parley rights with most of the demons on the Hellmouth.” He’s desperate to ask his questions, but I just grab his bag and pull him towards the door. “Later, please. We don’t have time now. I’ll explain as much as I can when we’re safe.”

*****************************************

Thank Christ for that. Got both cars stowed and a deal cut with the Crombec for accommodation for me and my boy for the next few days. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him pacing up and down by the DeSoto, in the same garage we started our road trip from, when he called me on the brownies and let me share his adventure. I know he’s desperate for answers, but I needed to talk to the head of the clan first. To warn them about the military and get them to spread the word. Angelus would probably laugh at me now, risking my line of escape for the greater good, but the big oaf never did understand about cultivating allies. You might not need them now, but it’s amazing how handy it is when you need to call in a favour.

Finally, council over, I can get back to the boy and before he can say anything I’ve got him over the side of the car, kissing him stupid and I feel like I’m drowning in his taste. Finally, we come up for air and he’s got that glazed, just been fucked look, just from a bit of a snog. Oh yeah, they might put a bit of metal in my head, but I’ve still got what it takes!

“Okay, that was good. That was more than good. That was pretty mind blowing, and I’m sure I can find some other words, if you give me time to dig out my thesaurus.” He grins at me shyly and I push his dirty fringe out of his face.

“Word games can wait, pet. I think the first thing you need is a shower and a clean set of clothes, yeah?”

He runs a hand self consciously through the back of his hair and glances down at the dirty jeans and T-shirt ruefully, but then I watch his shoulders square and his jaw set and I realise he’s not going down without a fight. “Cleanliness is next to godliness and all that shit, but why do I think there’s not much communing with the Lord going on at the moment. I’ll shower later, Spike, so stop putting it off. Tell me what happened. I understand you needed to sort out the business here, but it’s done now. It’s time to tell me what’s going on. Tell me what happened!” It’s not a plea, not like before. My boy’s in charge and he’s demanding answers.

“I’m not rightly sure, to be honest, pet. Everything happened so fast. One minute I was on my way to the Watcher’s house to pick you up from your little bright and shiny research party, and the next thing I’m outside the back of this frat house with some bastard in fatigues sticking 1000 volts of electricity through my gut.”

“What?”

“Don’t fret, pet. It was just the usual, tin pot, military wankers, thinking they knew what they were up to. Experiment on anything they don’t understand.”

“But you’re okay. You escaped, so you’re okay, right? Right?” He’s in my face, desperately looking for answers, his hands on the tops of my arms, gripping tightly and all at once I feel so claustrophobic and I can’t see my boy any more. There’s just military bastards in my face, laughing and pushing and pushing, ‘til I push back and push, and push and there’s pain. So much bloody pain and suddenly the concrete is cold and grainy under my cheek.

“Spike? Oh god, Spike, what’s wrong? What happened?” He’s on the ground in a heap but, as he’s speaking, he crawls over to me. He’s silent for just a moment, like he’s not sure what to do, but then strong arms are easing under my shoulders, holding me ‘til the tremors stop.

“It’s okay, pet. I’ll be fine, just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.” I struggle up, pulling him with me, and he’s holding me like I might break any minute. For a second the temptation to stand there and sink into his support is almost overwhelming, but I’ve got to be strong. Can’t start needing help, not now. Got to keep focused. Got to keep it together. I won’t be what they’ve made me. I just won’t! I push myself back and lean against the bonnet of the car and that’s just fine. Cigarette out and lit, leg resting against the front wheel and the image is right back in place. He’s hovering, the concern and uncertainty clear on his face and I feel like a right bastard, but I can’t afford to be weak.

“Spike? What just happened?”

I take a long drag of my fag and let the smoke hang in the air for a moment. “Think I maybe had a bit of a flashback. Nothing to worry about, pet”

He’s looking sceptical, so I don’t think I’m fooling him for a minute with the ‘big bad’ image. I'm right. “Nothing to worry about! You went all unfocused and when I touched you, you pushed me on my butt and did your impression of the dying swan. So you want to stop with the cryptic, Spike. What the hell did they do to you?”

Shit, so much for keeping up appearances. “Okay, I had a little visit with some military types. Seems they don’t like some of the more colourful elements of the Hellmouth. Seems they’ve found a way of modifying some of what they would call the more ‘anti social tendencies’. Stuck a natty little bit of plastic and metal into my head, said it would stop me being ‘impulsive’ in the future.”

“Which means what, exactly?”

“They stuck a chip in my head and now I can’t bite and I can’t hurt humans. Happy?” That came out harsher than I intended and now he looks like a kicked puppy, but having to actually admit out loud what those bastards did, finally brings the reality crashing down and I feel like I want to scream.

“But…but, that’s crazy. You’re a vampire – you bite – that’s what you do. Okay, the hurting humans bit, I can kind of understand, but how are you supposed to live if you can’t bite.”

“That’s kind of the point, pet. I’m not supposed to live. Bastards like to taunt, they like to torture, they probably pulled the wings off flies when they were at school. I’m supposed to die a slow, painful, miserable death and they get to laugh like hell.”

His eyes are huge as he stares at me and he looks like he wants to be sick, and I’m right there with him. Then the frown is back, as he works through the implications. “But what about the Gem? You told me the Gem protected you. That you couldn’t be hurt when you were wearing it. Buffy found a nest fighting over it and took it to Giles. How could they hurt you? How did you lose the Gem?

That’s the $64,000 questions, pet. Was wearing the ring when I was coming to see you, and I wasn’t wearing it when I popped up at the frat house. Like ‘now you see it, now you don’t’.”

He’s staring at me and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head, and then he whispers one word, “Willow.”

“What about her? You saying the little witch did some mojo? That she organised this? That she sold me out to those fuckers? I knew she was dangerous. I’m going to bloody kill her, slowly.” I can feel myself shifting and he’s right in my personal space, shaking his head.

“No, I’m not saying that. She did a spell. She and Oz have split up and she’s feeling crappy. She wanted to stop hurting, but the spell didn’t work. We were talking and she said that she was worried about my safety with you. That she wanted me to have a boyfriend who wasn’t a danger to me. Giles gave her a row, for using magic for personal gain and told her that the nature of the kind of spell she’d done, meant that any of the things she really wanted could have potentially triggered the magic.” He’s moved back a pace or two, but he’s still got his hand on my arm, stroking circles on the leather as he tries to work it through, in his head.

“So you’re trying to tell me that it’s an accident. That she didn’t mean it and she’ll bake even more cookies and it will be alright?”

“Yes, no, I mean, yes she didn’t mean it, and of course it’s not alright. I’m only speculating, I could be totally wrong. I don’t believe she conjured up a bunch of military nut jobs, but maybe the spell was enough to get the ring off your finger and put you in the path of the soldiers, with nothing to protect yourself. I don’t’ know, I’m just clutching at straws here, but it would kind of explain it. The spell was the catalyst, but the final outcome wasn’t part of the spell.”

“Well, like I said, pet, that’s just peachy isn’t it? Still going to bloody kill her.”

“Please Spike, you can’t. I knew it was more than a coincidence that the Gem appeared at the same time as you disappeared and I’ve threatened Willow myself, but you’ve already said you can’t hurt humans and when it comes down to it, I know I can’t either, for all my ranting. We need to tell Giles and let him deal with Willow, if it really was her fault. Get her to start using magic responsibly or stop her using it altogether.”

“So that’s just it then, is it? The witch gets a rap on the knuckles and does a bit of grovelling, and I get a lifetime of migraines and bagged blood.”

“Don’t make it sound like that. We’ll find a way to get it out. We’ll do the research and we’ll find a way. And you’ve bagged it before. We can get a supply for Willy’s. We can make it work.”

“And what if I don’t want to make it work? What if I don’t want to bag it? I did it before when we were on the road to give you time to sort things out in your head, but that was my decision. Kind of different when some bastards make the decision for you.” I know I’m getting angry and it’s aimed at the wrong person, but he’s making plans and being practical and I hate it. I just hate it!

“Well, it’s not like we’ve got much choice at the moment. We will find a solution. It might just take a bit of time. I need to talk to Giles, see if he knows anything that might help.”

“And in the meantime you’ve got yourself a pet vampire. No need for those pesky human qualms about me going out to feed or maybe turning someone. No need to argue with your conscience about letting the fox hunt, so long as he comes home to bed at the end of it. Can’t make little foxes if you cut his balls off, yeah?”

“Spike, stop it! You know that’s not what I mean!”

“Do I? I thought I knew, but it seems like this solves all your problems. If I’m neutered, you don’t have to worry about your little gang needling at you and you get to be the one in charge for a change. Like the thought of that, do you, pet? Not like I’m going anywhere. You’ve turned into a decent shag and I like something warm to rub up against when I kip. Seems to me like you get to have your cake and eat it.”

“Stop it! Just shut up! Stop being such a bastard. Do you know how worried I was about you? I’ve been in every demon bar in Sunnydale, even some of the ones that you warned me never to go near. I practically begged Buffy to help me find you. I don’t think I’ve eaten in three days. I blew off a job interview, ‘cause, somehow, finding my boyfriend was more important than applying to dig a few holes in the ground. Don’t you dare tell me what I think and what I want! I’ve been so fucking terrified that you could be dead and I wouldn’t ever know for sure. I even started to look up some of Giles’ books to see if I could find a spell to give me a clue where to look next. He doesn’t know I’ve got them and you know magic and me don’t mix, but I was willing to risk it, if it would help.” The tears are pouring down his face and I am officially the biggest bastard in the world, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to go to him. He’s so human and it’s almost like I’m scared.

I scrub my hand across my face and sigh, and just watch him for a moment. He’s got one arm wrapped around his waist and the other anchored round the back of his neck and he’s shaking. “I know, love. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I’m angry and a little bit scared, and I want to get us out of this shit hole, as quick as I can. I just kind of lost it for a minute.”

He’s nodding, bringing his hand down from his neck, to wipe the tears from his face. “Yeah, I get that. I say crazy things when I’m angry, as well.”

I light another fag and take a long pull, before walking over to him and dropping a kiss on his forehead. “I know you did everything you could.”

“How did you get out?”

“Funny really. They were escorting me back down to one of their labs when I saw a Gnestian demon coming the other way. They don’t look much, bit like an oversized green bean, but they love a good fight, so I provoked it on the way past. Said something about its mother and it hit me, so I hit it back. That really pissed it off and a pissed off seven foot Gnestian is a very pretty sight, if you’re not on the receiving end. Took the soldier boys a bit of time to get their act together and get the zap sticks out, to deal with what they saw as the bigger monster, so I took advantage and legged it. Alarms going off all over the place, but by the time they’d neutralised the threat, and calmed down the rest of the campers, I’d managed to find an exit.”

He’s got his hand stroking back along the arm of the duster, like the feel of the leather is reassuring him that I’m here. “Wow, Bruce Willis has nothing on you.

“And I’ve got more hair than him, pet.”

“That’s not hard.” He takes a breath and his hand stills on my arm as he looks at me. “You know, we will work it out, Spike, I promise.”

“I know. I believe you.” The answering smile is faint, but it’s there and I know I have to seize the moment, while I can. “I’ve got to go out for a while, love. I’m still feeling a bit crazy and I need to work it out of my system. Don’t want to take it out on you. Done enough of that already.”

“But you can’t go out. What if they find you? What if you get hurt?”

“They won’t find me. Not in this part of town. I need to work off some steam and there are a couple of demon joints that will do just the job.”

“But what about the chip? You’ll get hurt?”

“Chip only seems to work with humans, love. Remember, I punched the Gnestian. I’ll be back before dawn, but don’t worry if I’m not. Got a pile of aggression and frustration to work off, so it might take a bit of time. The Crombec has set up a room for us, through the door at the end. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in a bit, yeah? And before you ask, you can’t come with me. The places I’m going wouldn’t take too kindly to a human being around.”

He closes his mouth as the question dies in his throat. “Okay.” It’s just a whisper and I feel like a bastard all over again.

“Don’t worry, love. You’re safe here. I’ll be back before you know it.” Cupping my hand around the back of his neck I kiss him gently, tracing my tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, but as he starts to respond I pull away quickly. Before I can change my mind, I turn and walk towards the door of the garage. I know that if I look back, I’ll never get out the door, so I keep walking and then I’m out in the night, but as clear as if I had a photograph of the scene, I just know he’s standing by the DeSoto, tears in his eyes and his arms round his waist, like they’re the only things holding him together. The soldiers might have put a chip in my head, but I still know how to hurt one human without even trying.


	13. Realisations 12: Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander frets and goes looking for Spike

_  
**Realisations 12: Steps**   
_   


Okay, seriously freaking here. Majorly, seriously freaking. I thought the world had gone to rat shit after Spike disappeared, but now he’s back and hey that’s all good. Or it would be if it wasn’t for the little torture device in his head. And if that wasn’t enough, we end up having a huge row and he disappears to work off his anger, like Cordy in the last few minutes of a shoe sale. But I coped. I dealt. I’m dealing man. And like a good little boy, I took his advice and had my shower and even tried to get some sleep. And he wasn’t there when I woke up.

I waited and I paced and I waited a bit more, and then I cracked and went to find Giles. I figured he needed to know that Spike was back and I know I had to tell him about the soldier types and what they’d done. I thought he could help, but when I got there, there was just major weirdness. I hadn’t spoken to anyone since Spike left, and I don’t speak Crombec, so I didn’t realise there was something wrong, until Giles answered his door and I tried to tell him what was up. And there was nothing.

I guess I should have realised something was wrong, what with all the weirdo’s on the street, but I suppose I was so focused on finding Spike that I just assumed it was down to the normal Hellmouth crazies. I should know better than to assume anything in Sunnydale. I’ve seen a pile of creepiness over the last few years, but at least we’ve always been able to joke about it and lighten things up when stuff got really bad, but this no talking crap has taken things to a whole new level. Writing down a joke on a scribble board, kind of puts my timing off and neither the girls nor Giles seemed to appreciate my efforts. I tried to tell them about Spike being back and about the chip, and Giles did look sort of shocked and made sympathetic faces, but then the girls dragged him back to the books and that was that. I did feel kind of sorry for Giles. He finally seemed to have got over Miss Calendar and had a little female company and the Hellmouth strikes again and scared her off. It makes me wonder if the girls even actually realise that he’s a man, that he has feelings, ‘cause at the moment they only seem interested in picking that big brain of his and never mind anyone’s emotions. Or maybe I’m just projecting. I get that they were bound up researching the weird, bald guys and didn’t have time for my stuff, but I got a vibe from a brief expression on Willow’s face that she’s not exactly sorry Spike can’t bite anymore. It’s not like I was happy when he could, but torturing him and sticking an electronic leash in his head is so not the answer. We are definitely going to have a little talk, when the latest crisis is over, and I’m going to make sure she actually listens this time.

After about half an hour of playing Hellmouthy charades I was about ready to scream and possibly kill something, so I grabbed one of the boards and told Giles I reckoned they had the research sitch covered and that I was going hunting for Spike. He nodded, but as I started to write again, he stopped me and glanced quickly over at the girls as they worked their way through the books. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Giles look so shifty, as he unlocked a drawer in his desk and, with one last furtive glance, quickly slipped something into my hand. I started to open my mouth, forgetting that I couldn’t speak, but he just shook his head and pushed me towards the door and out into fading afternoon sun. And that was that.

So now I’m sitting here, on my bench in the park, talking in my head to Thomas and Lavinia about the weirdness of my day and staring at the ring that holds the Gem of Amara. I’m wondering about how magic works and how every time you think you’ve finally got a handle on the way someone ticks, they do something that cuts you off at the knees. I know Spike and I have talked about not underestimating Giles, and I thought I’d adjusted my perspective, but he’s like one of those Russian dolls that Willow had when she was little – every time I think I’ve seen his true face, I find there’s another layer to come.

So where to go now? Willy’s is out, it’s too obvious and the soldier guys will know about it, if they know about demons. I doubt he’d be at the other demon clubs, even if I knew where they were. He had some serious issues to work out last night and I kind of think he would have left a bit of carnage in his wake, so they’re probably not a good option for a daylight layover. That just leaves one bolt hole that comes to mind, where he could hunker down for the day in relative safety. It’s kind of funny when I think on it, I was sitting on this bench, in the dark, that night he found me after Faith did her damage and he took me back to the warehouse. Now he’s the one that’s damaged and I’m headed back to the same place. I just don’t know what’s going to happen when I get there.

  
******************

So here I am, where it all began, and right now I’m not sure if this is where it’s going to end. I know he’s here, I can smell the cigarette smoke and there are fresh scuff marks in the dust near the door, but for a moment I almost want to turn and run. With the present crisis I can’t have another argument, even if I wanted to, and despite his promise not to leave me, I’m terrified to take the step forward and confront him, but I take a breath and force myself to go deeper into the warehouse and it might be the longest walk I’ve taken in my entire life.

There’s a click in the darkness and a small light moves towards me, until he’s standing in the shadows, backlit by a thin stream of sunshine dancing through the broken window high in the wall. He looks like some kind of fallen angel, dressed in darkness and ignoring the siren call of the sun. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and watches me, waiting for the next move.

The moment seems to drag on for hours, and in desperation I haul the tablet out of my jacket and start to write. _“Are you okay?”_ One eyebrow goes up as he watches me scribble and it’s obvious that he’s been here since before the mojo started. I wipe and start again: _“New big badness. No one can talk. Giles and the gang are working on it. Are you okay?”_ The eyebrow moves again, this time accompanied by a head tilt and then he nods once and there’s just a hint of a smile, which gives me courage to take a step closer. He might say he’s okay, but there’s a bruise starting to bloom over the other eyebrow and, as I continue the visual check, I notice his knuckles are torn and stained with black blood. I know it’s probably a minor injury but it’s still the final straw and I take that last step forward, take hold of one pale hand and check it for further damage. It’s always amazed me how these hands can be so delicate and so damn dangerous, and I realise that they sum up the character of the man. Without them he wouldn’t be Spike.

He’s so still, watching me, letting me do my inspection, and as I gently give him back his hand, I realise that my own are shaking and the dam breaks. I thought I’d cried myself out last night, but it seems there’s always more to come, and as I reach up to wipe them away he lifts one beautiful hand, holds mine still and licks delicately at the tears on my cheek. His thumb is rubbing circles on my palm and I’m frozen, while he continues his ministrations like some big cat with her kitten. Then he’s finished and moves up to kiss me softly on the forehead and run his fingers gently through my hair. He pauses for a moment, lips against heated skin and then I feel his mouth move and I almost stagger with relief. He shapes the ‘sorry’; cool flesh against hot and this time, when the tears come again, they feel like spring rain after the drought.

He holds me for a moment and then eases away and picks up the writing tablet from where it’s dropped to the floor. _“Got stuck with the sun. Lost track of time. Didn’t mean to leave you. I keep my promises.”_

I knew that’s what had happened, in my rational mind I knew, but the confirmation is almost overwhelming. He wasn’t going to leave. He wasn’t going to leave me. I nod and smile weakly and hope to god I don’t look too pathetic.

I take the tablet back from him and start to scribble again. _“I’ve got something for you.”_ He rakes his eyes down my body and leers and it’s nice to know some things will never change. I shake my head in mock disapproval and then dig into the pocket of my jacket and pretend to hunt, drawing out the moment and smiling back at him. The folded arms and the tap of a Doc on the dirty concrete tell me when I’ve played enough, and I pull out my prize and hold out my hand. He’s watching, waiting for me to make the move and, as I turn and open my fingers, I could swear I heard his unbeating heart start up. The Gem gleams in the soft reflected glow of the fading sun and there’s an expression I can’t read, as he takes the ring gently out of my palm and slips it on his finger.

He raises his hand and I stare at the ring like I’m hypnotised. He runs the finger down the side of my face and across my lips, then takes the tablet out of my hands, throws it into a corner, and walks over to the far wall. I look round and the mattresses are still on the floor where we left them, and the candles in jars and holders are still balanced precariously on window ledges and turned over boxes. I watch him as he lights them one by one, until the warehouse is glowing in a surreal mixture of flame and shallow sunlight. He’s fiddling with the old boom box he had the last time we were here, and I’m just starting to think that I’m surprised it hasn’t been stolen, when he turns round and walks towards me, pausing to slip out of his duster and lay it on the mattress, and all irrelevant thoughts vanish from my head. Three steps, then two, then one and his hands slide up my front and in under my jacket at the shoulders, and it’s off and folded and laid with care, next to the leather.

The silence hangs there and then there’s a soft scratching, before the jangle of harsh strings and soft syncopation of percussion starts to wind itself through the empty space. I’m still watching him, looking for clues, but he lifts my hand and kisses it, like he’s courting, and then pulls me towards him. For all my lessons, I don’t know this dance and for a moment I stand stiff in his arms, but then one cool hand slips down my spine and settles in the small of my back, so strong and reassuring, and I find myself starting to relax under his touch. He brings my other hand up until we’re hand clasped at shoulder height, chest glued to chest and face to face, and I think the soft hypnotic sound of the music is the only thing that could breach the space between us. He pushes forwards, hips thrusting towards me and I can’t help but take a step back to mimic him. He follows through with another step and a twist of his hips and suddenly we’re spinning for an instant and, as quickly, we’re still as statues. A low voice, in something that sounds like Spanish, whispers with the music, explaining the story, illustrating the song, but I’m fixed on Spike’s eyes, and the rhythm creeping its way up my spine, and we’re moving again. Step, one and two and three, push back, and his leg flicks out and kicks and in that instant I realise that the military will never win. All the arrogance and power and knowledge of over one hundred years is there, in that one movement, and as he moves me round again, I finally relax and follow the flow.

This is my Spike. My lover. I was a scared little boy when we met, and he’s taught and he’s guided and he’s moulded me. I’ve let him do it and I’m finally happy. I close my eyes, trusting my teacher, and we’re moving around the warehouse, the fear of the last few days wiped clean by the beat of a sinful bass and a plaintive horn and the whisky whisper of a Spanish voice making promises of heat and passion and lust. There’s another change of direction, but now I’m moving with the rhythm and he can’t surprise me. Finally, I need to see him and I open my eyes and really look. There’s a new expression in his eyes, the confident, knowing stare is absent, but there’s no fear, just a startled look that turns to something that might be wonder, as we move. We’re dancing to music from long before I was born, music he romanced Dru with, but right now, in the candlelight and the fading beams of the sun, trust is re-established and I realise that sometimes the teacher can also be taught.

The music winds slowly to a close and, as the last beat of the bass echoes and dies, we stand chest to chest and nose to nose and after all the madness of the hours before, there’s no need for words. It’s strange, but right now, after the pain and the worry and the hurt, I’ve finally found my perfect moment, my perfect world. The mattress is dirty and the sun has disappeared, leaving the darkness to ooze from the corners, but it doesn’t matter. Drusilla may have danced a tango in the shadows of Buenos Aires, but it’s our dance now and once learned, no one is going to get between us again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**  
>  When I was writing this I was listening to a brilliant album by The Gotan Project called La Revancha Del Tango, and especially to my very favourite track Santa Maria (Del Buen Ayre) It really is worth checking out.


	14. Realisations 13: Static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike has a little discussion about his problem

_  
**Realisations 13: Static**   
_   


I’ve been in some strange situations in my unlife – some of them with Angelus, a lot of them with Dru and a couple with that boy of mine, but I think this might just be the strangest yet. A few, short days ago I was stuck in that bloody cell, watching a bunch of moronic military types wrangle a few demons and fledges, after a scientist right out of Young Frankenstein stuck a fucking control chip in my head, and now I’m sitting here in Slayer central with a bit of bone china in my hand, listening to the girlies moan about me being here. They’d be wittering even more, if they knew their Giles had stuck a little bit of the good stuff into the Earl Grey he gave me. Not a bad bloke, when you get to know him and I’ll have to thank him for giving my boy the ring back. Showed a lot of trust in both of us and I won’t forget it. But that’s for another time, right now there’s a nudge in my side and as I look up, my boy nods towards the chickies and I suppose I’d better tune back in, even though the Slayer’s got a whine on her that makes me think of being at the dentist.

“I just don’t believe it. I mean, how weirdsville can my life actually get. Hello, Slayer here, ‘The Chosen One’, heir to mystical powers and defender of mankind from all the oogies on the Hellmouth, because no one else can do it. I didn’t ask for this and I’ve been told, over and over again, that it’s my destiny, blah, blah, blah! And what do I find? That the government knows about the bumpy forehead gang and, not only that, they have squads of soldiers – not just a few, mind you, but squads of soldiers out doing their bit to keep Uncle Sam safe for hugs and puppies. And if that wasn’t enough, my almost boyfriend is one of them! I thought I’d finally found a nice, normal guy to date and have fun with, and it turns out he has nearly as many weapons as I do, and some way cooler gadgets. Giles, why don’t I have any cool gadgets?” She stops mid rant to draw breath and the Watcher’s got that deer in the headlights look he always gets when her blondeness is on the warpath.

“Yes, well, Buffy, I appreciate that this information regarding a military interventionist force, here in Sunnydale, puts a new slant on your calling, but it does not negate it. We simply have to work out exactly what the remit of the unit is and how it will impinge on the equilibrium of the current Hellmouth dynamic.”

“Huh?”

Christ, I wish she wouldn’t play the dumb blonde. She isn’t nearly as dense as she pretends, but she can’t resist playing the role and it’s not like I’m really going to object, ‘cause it does give the rest of us some great ammunition. “He means, we need to work out what the soldier boys are up to and how much they're fucking up the way things usually work around here.”

“Well, yes, Spike. Thank you for that insightful interpretation. Perhaps a little more colloquial than I originally intended, but I believe that the essential meaning is intact.”

“And that’s another thing! Exactly what is the bleached menace doing here, anyway? I don’t remember giving him an invitation for tea and cakes.”

“At least my roots aren’t showing, Slayer.” Oh yeah, that got her, she can’t help but run her fingers self consciously through her hair, before glaring at me again. “And I don’t need an invitation from you. Came here with Xander, didn’t I?”

The Slayer’s still grumbling under her breath, but the little witch has been damn quiet so far. I can see her, covertly watching me, and I bet she’s just itching to say something. Got a bit of an itch myself, but I promised my boy I’d try to be good. I’ve hurt him enough for one week, so I bite my tongue and try to look interested as the Watcher give a round up of the big bad from the night before, but it’s pretty boring and I pass the time reviewing our own adventures. I start to rub my thumb slowly up and down the boy’s leg, visualising him laid out on the mattress, all golden skin and dark eyes gleaming in the candle light. The chickies wouldn’t recognise him like that. That’s when he’s all mine, and that’s where he’s always going to be, and there’s not a damn thing they can do about it.

He’s got a finger wound round mine, moving in time and all at once I’m conscious that the Watcher’s stopped speaking and the witch is clearing her throat as she stares at us. “Xander, what are you doing?” Her voice has got that strangled tone and she looks as disapproving as any Sunday school teacher I’ve ever eaten.

  
“What? Hmmm, sorry. Got a bit carried away.”

He’s blushing, eyes flicking towards her and back to the floor and I’m not going to have her make him want to hide. “What’s the matter, Red? Getting you a bit hot under the collar, is it? Maybe you like to watch, yeah? Maybe you’d like Xan to give you all the details, give you something to think about when you’re all alone in that little dorm room of yours?”

“Spike!” His hand swats lightly at my arm, but there’s a light in his eyes that’s just full of mischief and it’s obvious the witch can see it too, because she just looks more and more pissed off.

“You’re disgusting, Spike. You don’t fool me. I know what you are. You’ve got Xander turned all upside down, but I can see right through you. You’re a vampire. An evil, homicidal, thing and I won’t sit here and let you ruin one of my friends.” Okay, I was going to play relatively nice, but now she’s just asking for it.

“Is that right, now? ‘Evil and homicidal’, that’s got a nice ring to it. Certainly the former, and used to be the latter. But not now, am I? You weren’t happy about what I could do, so you decided to do something about it, didn’t you?”

“Spike, please, don’t. We agreed I would deal with this.” His hand is back on my arm, stroking, and I reach over and give it a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“I know, pet, but I’m not going to sit here while she belittles you and says that you don’t have a mind of your own. She bangs on about how dangerous I am, but what about her?”

That ruffled the witch’s feathers, but Giles cuts her off before she can get started. “Spike! I really don’t think this is the time or the place for this discussion. I think the military presence is more pressing than any difference of opinion between you and Willow.”

“That’s just the thing, Rupert, this is exactly to do with the soldier boys. This is about how I finished up in their hands in the first place and exactly what part madam here played in that little drama. See, I was coming here to pick up Xander, the night of your last research party. I was cutting through Shadyview and picked up a bit of action from a couple of the bolder fledges, but then, all of a sudden, I’m not in the cemetery anymore, I’m outside some frat house and some git in green is putting 1000 volts into my guts. Now I wonder how that happened?”

The Watcher’s stopped fidgeting and as he stares at me, I know I’ve finally got his attention. “What exactly are you trying to say, Spike?”

“I would have thought it was obvious. I didn’t get transported half way across town under my own steam. It was instant. Magic, you could say! And isn’t it a coincidence that I land right at the feet of some bastards with a grudge against the more underground elements of Sunnydale. And you know what the really strange thing is?" There’s silence in the room and it’s nice to know I’ve still got the power to hold an audience. Learned that from Angelus; he always did enjoy a bit of grandstanding. “When I was coming through Shadyview, I was wearing the ring, the Gem of Amara, the thing which allowed me to have a day in the sun, but also the thing that stops me being killed, from being hurt. The thing that helps me protect people I love.” The Slayer’s staring at me as I use the word, but Rupert just looks resigned and a little bit sad. “But when I came face to face with the soldier boys, I didn’t have the ring anymore and all of a sudden it’s open season, you might say.”

“Spike, I assume you’re going somewhere with this?” He knows exactly where I’m going with it, but I appreciate that he needs to be the adult while I’m saying my piece.

“Xander told me about the little witch doing a spell, ‘cause she was upset that her wolf had left her. Wanted to make herself feel better. I thought you'd have told her about the dangers of doing ‘Will be Done’ spells, Rupert?”

“Yes, well... we have had a discussion about it.”

“So, it’s just speculation, but she wanted me not to be dangerous anymore. I think her spell ripped the ring off my finger and put me in the path of the soldiers. And abracadabra, she gets her wish and I’m not dangerous anymore.”

The witch is on her feet, her face flushed and here it comes, right on schedule. “Are you saying it’s my fault that the military stopped you from killing? Hello, I didn’t even know about them until Buffy confronted Riley last night. How dare you accuse me! I won’t say I’m sorry that you can’t hurt people, but I still think you’re dangerous and someone should have staked you a long time ago.”

“Oh you’re damn right I’m dangerous, and you’d better not forget it. And you didn’t have to give me to the soldiers, you just had to have enough intent behind your spell that it stripped me of my protection and set me up to take the fall.”

“That’s a serious accusation, Spike.”

“Well this chip is a serious bit of kit, Rupert. And Red over there, she thinks I’m still a threat and she’s right, but she’s seriously dangerous and she needs stepping on, right now. If you don’t do it, then I’ll find a way to do it myself, chip or no chip.”

The Slayer’s on her feet now, looking from her mentor to her friends and back again. I almost feel sorry for her, but when it comes down to it, we’re too different to have anything in common, apart from the affection of one brown eyed boy. “Giles, does any of this make sense to you, because I’m going round in circles here.”

“Unfortunately it does, I’m afraid. I believe Spike has gone slightly overboard in his accusations, but in some ways that is understandable, given the nature of what happened to him. I believe he is suggesting that while Willow did not deliberately intend him to be endangered, the strength of her feeling about him being dangerous was enough to allow the spell to be a catalyst. The ring slipped from his finger in the graveyard, where it was fought over by the nest of vampires that Buffy found, and the spell delivered Spike into the path of people who could render him less of a threat. The fact that Willow did not deliberately set out to do this, does not make her any less culpable in Spike’s eyes.”

“Giles!” The redhead’s got that whine in her voice now, like she’s ten years old and has just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Funny, but I don’t think it’s going to work this time.

“Willow, I must admit that I am inclined to agree with Spike on this. I appreciate that you were upset, but you failed to consider the consequences of your actions. This was initiated by your own selfishness and misuse of magic and it has to stop! I want any books you have borrowed from me, to be returned by tomorrow evening and I want a detailed report on all spells you have attempted recently.

She’s looking at him like he’s taken away her favourite puppy. “But Giles, I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to believe that.”

“I do believe it, Willow. That’s the only reason I am not invoking more draconian measures. But you have to realise that intent and outcome are not always part of a linear process. You let your emotions impact on your casting and that always leads to problems. Now, I believe that this discussion is over for the moment. In the meantime, Buffy, I suggest that you get in touch with Riley and see what you can find out about the remit of his unit.”

She’s looking between the Watcher and the witch, like she’s not quite sure which way to turn, but in the end, the lure of her boyfriend wins out. “Sure, I can do that.”

My boy’s been quiet through the whole discussion, but now that it’s over, he stands and stretches his back slowly before looking over at the Watcher. “Giles, I have one question. What effect will the magic from the Gem have on the chip? Could it counteract it?”

“An interesting question, Xander, and to be honest, one I don’t have the answer to at this point.”

“Let me know if you find anything. I’m not exactly going to let him try a practical experiment. Anyway, if we’re done for tonight, we’re headed out and we’ll check in tomorrow, to get an update.”

“And if I need to get in contact with you?”

“We’ll be around. We’re keeping a low profile at the moment.”

“Of course, I understand.” The Watcher’s not a bad bloke, when all’s said and done, and it’s difficult not to like someone with a stash of 20 year old Glenmorangie. Right now, there’s just one more thing and I turn my attention back to the girls.

“Slayer, when you see the soldier boy, be careful what you say. He saw us together on the beach the other day. I wasn’t wearing my pretty face. I don’t want him, or any of his buddies, looking for Xander, if you know what I mean?”

She holds my gaze for a moment and then nods once. “Okay, for Xander’s sake, I’ll be careful. But Spike, I can’t say I’m sorry you can’t hurt anyone and I'd be lying if I said I was. And I can’t say I’m happy that Giles has given you the ring back, but I suppose I’ll have to trust his judgement. Don’t give him cause to regret it.” One thing you can say with the Slayer – she’s always straightforward and I’d rather have that than a pile of false promises, any day.

“Right then, time to go.” I pull out a cigarette and my Zippo, but then I get a look from the boy and I grin and hold them in my hand as we walk towards the door.

“Xander?” He stops and turns back, and just looks for a moment. I wonder if he’s trying to recognise the face of the girl he used to play in the sandpit with, as a kid, because when I look into her eyes, all I can see is self pity and selfishness.

“Wills, I can’t talk about this right now. I believe that you didn’t intend to hurt anyone, but you did and you’ve got to live with that. But so does Spike and so do I, because anything that affects him, affects me. Understand?”

She’s nodding, but it’s an automatic reaction. I really don’t think she’s got a clue and as she opens her mouth again, I know I’m right. “But…”

“No buts, Willow. Do what Giles asks and think about what’s happened. You’ve always been the big brain, so work it out.”

He turns away and, as I nod to the Watcher and follow my boy through the door, I can hear the sound of sobbing, but for some reason, the only picture I’ve got in my mind is a crocodile and a row of gleaming teeth.


	15. Realisations 14: Being Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike has another close encounter with The Initiative and Buffy’s not a happy Slayer.

_  
**Realisations 14: Being Human**   
_   


Bastards! Bloody, fucking, military wankers! Don’t fight fair. Sneak up on you with their fancy guns and their shiny toys. Wouldn’t last two minutes with me, face to face. Wouldn’t last two seconds under Angelus or Darla, or even Dru. They hide behind their weapons and their small minded orders and their by the book training, but they’d crumple under the first kiss of a whip. Hate what they’ve done to me. Making me run like prey. They know damn fine I can’t fight back and they’re loving it. Just wait ‘til I get my bite back, then they’ll know how prey really feels.

I stagger onwards and for once in my long unlife, the dark is pressing in and mocking me as I try to get my bearings. I only went out to get some smokes and get the latest word on the street. I get most of our intel from the Crombec, but they’re a respectable clan and sometimes you have to deal with the seamier side of the Hellmouth to get the real deal. Bastard soldiers, I didn’t see them. Was too focused on the gossip that the Slayer was running with the soldier boys and that old Rupert had been seen drinking with someone he shouldn’t. Can’t believe they blindsided me. Put a bloody hole in my duster. Gave me a head start, like it’s a game to them. Stupid gits, they’ll learn never to give someone like me any advantage. I’ll always win in the long run.

Right, there’s the Aphelion Crypt, so I know I’m on target. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be there. Get into the Crombec garage and find my boy. The wards will keep the military creeps out and give me time to regroup.

*************************

“Spike? Spike, what the hell happened? You look like death warmed up, and that’s probably not the best analogy right now, but you know what I mean.” He’s rushing towards me, all concerned face, hands patting me down, feeling for injuries. If I didn’t feel quite so crap it’d be quite the turn on.

“Sshh, it’s okay, pet. Had a little bit of a run in with the soldier boys while I was out. Got distracted by some of the stuff I heard and didn’t see them ‘til it was too late. Though it was a bit coincidental, the way they were right in my path, when I think on it. If that bloody witch has been meddling again, I’ll skin her myself, chip or no bloody chip.”

“I’m sure Willow has learned her lesson, Spike. I know I haven’t checked in with him for a few days, but the last time I spoke to Giles he said he’d confiscated all her supplies and put her on magical probation. That means she can only do the pencil floating stuff, so she can’t hurt anyone, not even unintentionally. And stop trying to distract me - what happened? And more importantly, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, love. I think they might have nicked me, but it’s not a problem. Be healed in no time.”

“They shot you? Shit, let me see.”

“It’s fine, pet. Stop fussing.”

“I’m not fussing. You’re shot. I’m concerned. There are stupid guys in green clothing with plants on their heads running around outside, so why on earth would I be fussing?”

“Xander!”

“Let me see! And don’t look at me like that, Spike. I’m not one of your flunkies. I won’t roll over. Take your damn coat off and let me see!”

“Okay, okay.” Christ, shouldn’t have given the boy some self esteem. Wee bit of self confidence and he’s quite the little cock pheasant. Mind you, he’s not all display and no brain. He’s actually got the moves and the strategy to back it up.

Easing the duster off, he folds it carefully across a chair before running his hands up my arms and down my back. As his fingers hover over my shoulder, I feel myself stiffen as he touches the damp fabric of my shirt. “Shit, you’re bleeding. I’m going to take your shirt off and have a look, and don’t even think about arguing, okay!”

I shake my head at his tone, but he just stares at me grimly and I can only sigh and agree. There’s a little voice in my head whispering that he could do whatever he wanted and I wouldn’t be able to stop him, but I stamp it down quickly before it can take root. This is Xander and he’d never hurt me. Not intentionally. He pauses for a moment, head titled slightly to the side as he watches me and I bet he knows exactly what’s going on in my head. There’s a brief reassuring smile and as he moves around to my back, a soft, swift kiss on my back of my neck before a momentary stab of white hot pain as he pulls the shirt gently off my shoulders and peels the cloth away from my skin.

“God, Spike, they really shot you. It looks nasty too. I’m going to get the first aid kit out of the car and see if I can get at the bullet. There’s no exit wound so it must still be in there.”

“It’s okay, love. Vampire here, remember. It’ll heal up all on its own. There’s no need to go excavating, yeah?” I might as well be talking to myself, because he’s rootling in the back of the car and just as I start to pull my shirt back on, he comes towards me carrying his medicine chest and glares at me.

“Spike, leave the damn shirt alone. I don’t care about super vampy healing powers. I don’t even care if you're scared of a little pain and are too much of a bad ass to admit it. I am going to clean up the wound. I am going to get the bullet out. I am not going to let it get infected and then have to put up with you being cranky. Clear?”

“As crystal, pet. And I am not scared of a little bit of pain!”

“Never thought you were, but the suggestion did give you something else to think about, rather than pulling that macho act.”

“Git!”

“Yep! Now hold still, I’m going to clean in up with a bit of hydrogen peroxide, so it might sting a bit, and then I’m going to go excavating, as you so elegantly put it. I’ll try not to hurt you, but I want that bullet out.”

He starts swabbing at the skin and then I feel a sharp pain as he edges the tweezers into the hole. He’s whispering nonsense in my ear as he starts poke around, promising all sorts of treats if I hold still, and I’m beginning to think being shot at is worth the price, if it gets him to talk dirty like this. I’m just considering whether what he’s suggesting is physically possible, when the pain turns from sharp to searing, then I feel something tugging and for a moment my vision is blurry.

“Got it. Sorry if it hurt. It had gone in pretty deep.” He holds it up in front of me and I can only stare.

“Doesn’t look like any bullet I’ve ever seen, pet? Why's it flashing?”

“That’s ‘cause it’s not a bullet, it’s a tracer. They’ve not only got you chipped, they’ve got you bar coded as well.”

“Bastards!”

“Stupid bastards.” He drops the thing on the floor and brings his boot down hard on the concrete. “See? All gone!”

He’s grinning at me, but it’s tinged with anger and a whole pile of concern and I can’t help pulling him towards me for a long, hard kiss. “Right then, let's get cleared up and then we’d better do some planning, ‘cause this thing is getting right out of hand.”

He nods and starts to gather up his supplies and I’m just pondering the next move when there’s a cough from the darkness at the end of the garage. The boy’s got a stake in his hand before I can blink and I brace for action, when the Crombec comes into view. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. The reason for the interruption is all too obvious as the Slayer moves out of the shadows at his back.

“Slayer?”

“Spike. I’m sorry to interrupt. I wasn’t sure where you were, but I knew the general area. Your friend here found me outside, looking a bit lost.”

She’s standing, arms clasped around her waist and I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard her apologise to me, so I know something must be up. There’s the briefest moment of silence while I consider the implications and then the boy jumps in. “You look more than a bit lost, Buff. I don’t remember that top having a big hole in the side, the last time you wore it, and I didn’t expect to see you in ripped jeans, they’re not really your style.”

“Yeah, well, you know me, always pushing the boundaries of fashion. Maybe we could call it the retro-punk look. In a couple of weeks, everyone will be wearing it.” She’s trying for cocky, but I can see her start to sway. Before I can move, the boy is at her side, his arm around her shoulder and for once I can’t bring myself to feel even the slightest bit jealous. He walks her slowly over to one of the chairs set up by the work bench and eases her down, watching ‘til she regains her composure. After a few moments her colour is better and he digs back into the medical kit, coming up with a water bottle and I can see her hand is shaking as she takes it and starts to sip.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Thank you. That helped.” She looks so small and fragile, sitting perched on the edge of the chair, and it’s like someone has drained all the air and the courage out of her.

“What’s wrong, Buffy?” She looks startled that I actually used her name, but then she flushes as she looks at my bare chest and then over to Xander.

“Umm, am I interrupting anything? ‘Cause if I am, I can so go away and come back another time.”

The boy looks confused for a moment and then he follows her gaze and blushes. “Oh no. No interrupting. Just the opposite. I was doing some archaeology on Spike’s back.”

Now she’s the one that looks confused and I’m feeling just a little bit sorry for her, so I ease my shirt back on and take some control before he can start again. “Ran into the soldier boys, tonight. They decided to use me for target practice, and then play a little game of tag. Cowards like prey that can’t fight back. Xander had to dig a tracer out of my back.”

She looks like she’s going to be sick and he presses the water bottle back into her hand, but she shakes him off and comes to her feet, wobbling slightly for a moment. “Okay, so it looks like we’ve got more in common than I thought.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You probably know I’ve been patrolling with the soldiers recently and, before you say anything, no, I wasn’t just thinking with my hormones. Okay, Riley is a honey and it was kind of cool to patrol with him and have the gadgets and stuff, and yes that makes me completely blonde and shallow. But I’m not completely stupid.”

“Never thought you were, Buffy. Wouldn’t have lasted as long as you have, if you were as dumb as you act sometimes. You’ve had backup and that’s more than most Slayers in history have had, but you’re also smart enough to know when you need help. Most of the time, anyway.”

“Wow, are we having a civilised conversation?”

I can’t help raising an eyebrow, but she’s just smiling sweetly and I can hear my boy choking in the background. “Don’t know that I’d go that far, but you obviously came here for a reason, so I figure there’s no point in beating about the bush.”

“I’ve always wondered about that. Exactly why would you beat a bush, anyway? It’s just weird.”

There’s so many things I could say, but I don’t get a chance before Xander jumps in. “Buffy!”

“Sorry, I’m distracto girl. I think Giles would probably call it denial, or something. So yes, I’m patrolling with Riley and it’s all good, but I’m also keeping an eye of what the soldier’s are up to. Figured that I could gather more information if I was on the inside, if you know what I mean?”

“Not a bad plan. What did the Watcher say?”

“Umm, he’s not very happy, but he can’t come up with a concrete reason for not doing it, and he’s kind of occupied with sorting out Willow at the moment. She’s still sulking and I’m so not getting in the middle of that little mess.”

I see my boy stiffen at the mention of the witch, but I shake my head at him. It’s not the time to get distracted by other things and he nods and turns his attention back to the Slayer. “Buffy, can we get back to you and the Initiative? You could take on most of them with one hand tied behind your back and not break a nail, never mind tear your top. What happened?”

“Professor Walsh happened. She’s my Psych 101 Prof, but she’s also in charge of the Initiative labs. I knew she didn’t like me. She made some snide comment about the inappropriateness of my clothes for patrolling. I told her I’d gone out in this halter hundreds of times and she kind of didn’t like me answering back. She sent me on a recon mission to track some demons down in the caves under the school, but it was a set up. She locked me down there and there was a reception committee waiting. Stupid woman! She had to sit and watch on the cameras while I took her pets apart.” She’s got her mask firmly back in place; back to being the Slayer instead of the girl and I can believe the scientist had no conception of the power she’s meddling with. “I ran before she could send another team and when I got my bearings I realised I was near to where you guys were holed up. I wasn’t sure of the exact location and I know I don’t have Willow’s magic, but I can still feel the tingle and this place lit up my Slayer senses like a Christmas tree, so I wandered about ‘til your friend came out to see what I wanted.”

“Buffy, you know I’m pleased to see you, but why didn’t you go straight to Giles? He needs to know about this.”

“I know. You’re right. It’s just that…”

He’s got his arm around her shoulders again, but I can see she’s desperate not to appear weak and after moment I realise he can sense it as well, as he gives her a final squeeze and lets go. “It’s just what, Buff? You know you can tell me anything.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Buffy, I’ve got to echo Spike here. Whatever ‘it’ is, isn’t stupid. You’re not stupid and neither am I. This isn’t like you, so spill, okay?”

“Okay. When I go to Giles, he’ll want a report. He’ll want to know details and times and dates, and I’ll get a lecture about letting all the ‘bright and shiny’ cloud my judgement. And he’ll be right and I’ll do his report, just like always. But when I was coming back through Restfield it just kind of hit me. She tried to kill me! God knows, I shouldn’t be freaked. I’ve had enough stuff try to kill me over the last few years, but normally it’s the monster of the week and it isn’t usually personal. But she planned this. She knew when she was giving the briefing that she was going to send me in there and she didn’t expect me to come out. I just…I just needed a bit of time to freak before I got into Slayer mode and went to see Giles.” She’s had her head down the whole time she’s been talking, like she’s ashamed of having emotions. “See, told you it was stupid.”

That’s all it takes. Before she can say another word, she’s being pushed back into the chair and my boy is on his knees at her feet. “Buffy, I told you it’s not stupid. It’s not stupid to have feelings. It’s certainly not stupid to be upset because someone tried to kill you. God knows, I spent most of my junior year being freaked – usually when I went out on a date.” That gets a smile and I know I’m a ponce, but it’s nice to see. “I’m flattered that you wanted to come and talk about this and you know I’ll be there for you when you need me, but you need to talk to Giles as well. For one thing he needs to know that the soldiers have escalated their actions, both through what happened to you and what they did to Spike tonight. But more important, you have to tell him how you’re feeling. You can’t be the Slayer all the time. You’re nineteen, you’ve got emotions and hormones and a shoe fetish that’s frankly scary at times, but that’s normal. You’re a teenager, just like me and just like Willow. We’re maybe not normal teenagers, but we’ve still got the same make up and we’ve still got the same crazy stuff going on in our heads. So talk to Giles, okay? He will understand. He was nineteen once, and I know that’s a really disturbing thought, but it’s true.” She’s nodding and he gets up slowly, pausing to kiss her lightly on the forehead before he steps back and curls his arm around my waist.

“Okay, you’re doing the freaky mature thing again. It still gives me the wiggins even though I know you’re right.” She stands and brushes herself down carefully and it’s the clearest sign I’ve seen that she getting back her poise. “Can you come over later? I’ll give Giles my report and we need to figure out what the next step is.”

“We can do that. Remember we’ve faced down a whole lot of uglies and come out of the other side. Just because some portion of the government have got their heads out of their collective asses and woken up to the fact that the things that go bump in the night exist, doesn’t mean that we can’t kick said asses back into the hole they crawled out of.”

“Check! Asses kicked, deep holes, I can do that.”

She takes a breath and then walks towards us, pausing to give my boy a light kiss on the cheek. He’s got a goofy grin and I’m just winding up to say something sarcastic when she pauses in front of me. “Thank you for being there for him when the rest of us were being blind.” I just stare at her, for once lost for words and she smiles and walks away before I can get my head together. That’s all I bloody need. Got a chip in my head so I can’t hurt humans and can’t bite. Had to rely on one teenage boy to stop me being bagged and tagged like last week’s groceries, and now I’ve got the Slayer being nice to me. Things could definitely not get any worse.


	16. Realisations 15: Battlefields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The troops rally, Riley gets pissy and Xander takes charge!

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**Realisations 15: Battlefields**   
_   


  
“Right then, Watcher, lets get this show on the road. You might have got the place warded, but I still don’t like being out in the open like this for a big chunk of time. No saying what those military gits might be up to.”

“Yes, well, thank you for that, Spike. I can assure you that the wards I have posted are more than strong enough to detect any untoward activity, and as for military intervention, I’m assuming you are referring to bugs or other types of surveillance, yes? I may not like technology, but I am not a complete Luddite and I do know how to do a magical sweep for anything that shouldn’t be here.”

“It didn’t pick up Spike, so it can’t be that great a spell.” Little witch really can’t resist putting her tuppence worth in. Thinks because she’s got a few spells under her belt, that she knows better than everyone else. And from the look on the Watcher’s face, he obviously heard her. She’s no idea that she’s digging herself a bigger hole with every nasty aside.

“I didn’t quite catch that, Red. You want to share with the rest of the class?”

She’s about to start again, I can just tell, but my boy has his hand on my arm, stroking gently as he looks at her. “Willow, just don’t. We’re here to help in whatever way we can. There’s something seriously scary about The Initiative and they need to be stopped. But don’t push it too far. The minute we’re done, I’ve seriously got to think about what comes next, so please don’t force me to make a choice we'll both regret.” Oh, that’s got her.

“You mean…?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Willow. You’ve known me for a long time. You know how far I’ll go for the people I love. So don’t make me chose, okay?”

She’s looking mutinous, like she wants to get right into it, but the Watcher clears his throat and glares at her and she subsides back into her chair. “Thank you. If we can return to the matter at hand, Professor Walsh has obviously decided that Buffy is a wild card and a danger to her operation, and as such, to be stopped at any cost. As we are all known associates, this puts us all in danger. We need to be extra vigilant while going about our day to day lives. If you have a regular routine, change it, if you have known habits, break them. Buffy, Willow, I know that I shouldn’t be saying this, but I think it would be best if you stayed off class for the next few days, while we plan our strategy. Will this inconvenience you regarding your grades or assignments?”

“A few days shouldn’t make a difference, Giles. We can probably do some stuff on-line and keep up that way.”

“Excellent. Some disturbing rumours about unexplained deaths have come to my attention. Not just demons, but some human as well. Violent deaths, with no motive or explanation. I’m concerned that they might have some connection with The Initiative and we need to get to the bottom of what’s happening before it escalates.”

I’m just about ask him for further details, when there’s a loud banging at the door and I can almost see the wave of panic move around the room.

The Watcher puts his finger to his lips and then moves over to the spy hole in the door. After a brief moment he turns and looks at the Slayer. “Buffy, it’s Riley.”

She smiles like all her Christmases have come at once and nods to Rupert to open the door. Typical, we’re in the midst of a load of bloody chaos and the Slayer’s happy to see her boyfriend. On the other hand, although wild horses wouldn’t drag the admission out of me, it's nice to see her smile because I know it makes my boy happy, and a happy boy is horny boy, so everyone wins.

The Watcher opens the door carefully, but when it’s only half way, the heavy wood rebounds as the soldier boy barrels passed, leaving old Rupert clutching his shoulder and wearing an expression like a stunned Pekingese.

For a moment, no one says anything and the soldier looks like he’s ready to blow any minute. He’s looking around like he’s searching for something to break and I might be wrong, but I get the suspicion that all’s not well in Iowa land. This might actually be fun.

“Riley, what are you doing here?” The Slayer’s right beside him in three short steps, laying a hand on his arm, but he just stares at her and shakes it off like he might catch something nasty, pushing her away and she stumbles slightly as she looks at him in shock.

“Riley?” Her voice is coloured with real uncertainty now and I can feel my boy stiffen beside me as he waits for whatever’s coming next.

“Did you do it?” There’s a strange mixture of fury and despair in corn bread’s voice, his hands are bunching into fists at his side and I wonder what the hell is going on.

“Did I do what?” Slayer’s obviously as confused as the rest of us, but now she’s wary as well.

“You know.”

“Obviously, I don’t know, and that’s probably means I didn’t do ‘it’ because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Now she’s the angry one and for the first time since he came barging through the door he looks uncertain and it’s obvious the Slayer sees it too. “Riley, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

I watch as his hands slowly uncurl and now they’re trembling as he stares at the floor for a second and then back up at the Slayer. “Dr Walsh, she’s dead.”

“What?”

“Stabbed – with something sharp and pointy. You might even say she was ‘staked’.” Bingo, there we have it ladies and gents, nothing like a bit of trust to keep a relationship on the straight and narrow.

“And you thought it was me?” I thought she was angry before, but the temperature is rising by the second. “You actually thought I would do something like that? Okay, of course I’m sorry she’s dead, even more so if she was murdered, but I also can’t forget that the woman tried to have me killed and she was flunking me in class, so excuse me if I don’t exactly mourn for her. But to think I was capable of killing her... God, Riley, I really thought we had something. That you knew me. That you actually got me. Then you come in here shouting and making accusations like that. It’s pretty obvious you don’t know me at all.” She’s right in his face now, jabbing at his chest with one manicured nail and he flinches slightly with every contact. This is better than dinner theatre. “The people in this room – they know me. They understand exactly what I’m capable of and they know where I draw the line. Even Spike knows and he’s an evil, homicidal fiend.”

“Ta, pet, you say the nicest things!” Oops, maybe I’ll just keep quiet because if looks could kill, there’d be big piles of dust lying around about now. I can see she’s gearing herself up for a comeback, but that last little exchange puts the soldier back on the offensive.

“Why is he here anyway? As you’ve just pointed out, Hostile 17 is a monster, a vampire, one of the species you’re supposed to kill. But he’s here, being all cosy. Does he get tea and cakes when he comes round?”

My boy’s been quiet up ‘til now, content to watch from the sidelines, but from the pressure on my arm I know that he’s not a happy bunny. “Right, that’s it!”

“Pet!”

“No, Spike. I’m not keeping quiet. This has gone on long enough. Riley, I don’t care what beef you have with Buffy. She’s more than capable of fighting her own battles and I know for a fact that she can kick both our asses into next week. But she’s my friend and if she needs me to hold her coat while she beats some sense into you, that’s fine by me. That’s what friends do. That’s why I’m here – to help my friends! And Spike’s here because I asked him to come. Because he’s my friend.

“Friend?” Funny how he can make the word sound like a sneer. “Is that what you call it? I saw you both down at the beach. I saw him bite you.”

Interesting that he still remembers that. I’m waiting for him to ask how a vamp could be out in daylight, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but now it’s time for a little soldier baiting. “Yeah, and I saw the look on your face as you watched us. Got quite turned on, didn’t you. Is that why I finished up with a bit of metal in my head? Because you couldn’t face your nasty little thoughts.” Oh yes, this is what I call entertainment. I square my shoulders, eager for a nice, juicy argument, but I can feel Xander shifting closer and I know it’s time to back off.

“So not helping, Spike.” He curls his fingers through mine and the soldier’s eyes follow the movement before he looks back up again. “Riley, I want you to remember something - his name is Spike, not Hostile 17. Spike is my lover, my boyfriend, but he’s also a friend who happens to be a boy, a man. That’s what we were, first of all, and that’s what we’ll always be. So like I say, Spike’s here because I asked him to come, okay?”

As he finishes his little ra-ra speech, I’m watching Red and from the expression on her face it looks like it might finally be sinking in that her friend has grown up. What she’ll do with the knowledge is another question.

The Slayer’s boy isn’t looking happy. I didn’t really look at him when he first came in, was too busy enjoying the rumpus, but now things have quietened down I take a closer look, and he looks all kinds of rough. His skin is ashen like he’s been on a three day binge in a suck house, but I’m sure corn bread wouldn’t sully himself. Shock, that’s what it is, realising that he’s built his little house of cards on quicksand and he doesn’t know where the hell to turn. Almost feel sorry for the poor bastard. He was so sure of himself, that he knew the answers, knew how to make his little world right again, even if it meant accusing his lover of murder. Then being wound up about which team he bats for by one of the things he’s been taught to hate. Poor, fucked up little Riley – couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

Seems like everyone else is taking in the same details because for a moment there’s just staring, ‘til he’s squirming under the scrutiny of five sets of eyes. It’s quite fun and I’m kind of sad when the Watcher finally breaks the moment.

“Well, now that we have established that Buffy did not in fact kill Dr Walsh, perhaps we can move on to more pertinent matters.” Go, Rupes, always knew he had a practical streak.

“Riley, I appreciate you are confused at present, that you’re not sure who to trust, but I need you to concentrate. Did you ever hear Dr Walsh talking about work in the facility which went beyond the capture and cataloguing of demon species? I’m not talking about chipping, that’s not important right now.”

“Oi!”

“Not now, Spike. What I mean, Riley, is could the Professor have been engaged in non sanctioned activities?”

“No!”

“Are you sure? You want to get to the bottom of how she was killed, don’t you?”

He looks uncertain again and the Watcher presses the advantage. “I met with an old acquaintance recently and he mentioned a project 314. Does that mean anything to you?” Acquaintance, that’s an interesting way of putting it. Way I heard it, old Rupert and that chaos bloke were way more than acquaintances, but now’s probably not the time to bring it up. Especially not when things are getting so entertaining with the soldier boy.

“No!”

The Watcher sighs heavily, looking at the soldier with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. “Riley, please?”

He’s looking round the room, desperate for allies. He obviously can’t work out when the tables turned. He burst in, full of righteous anger and moral high ground and now he’s the one in the spotlight. All of a sudden the puff seems to out of him and he rubs his hand tiredly across him eyes as he looks at the Watcher. “Umm?”

“Yes?” Rupert’s nodding encouragingly, like he’s trying to help a student work out a really hard problem.

“There was a room. Its number was 314. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It wasn’t somewhere we went. Not part of our orders, so I didn’t give it any thought. I saw Professor Walsh come out of there a couple of times. Doctor Engelmann too, but it was probably just another lab. There was no reason to think it was strange.”

“Hate to burst your bubble, soldier boy, but you’ve been working for a secret government organisation that hunts and wants to control demons. I reckon your weird-o-meter is a little on the knackered side, yeah?”

He takes one long stride forward, just itching to get in my face, knowing damn fine that the chip will protect him, but right then Xander gets between us and I can’t decide if I’m proud of him or pissed off. Bastard chip, hate the way it makes me feel so fucking vulnerable, but I look at my boy, squaring up to the soldier like a little cock pheasant and I can’t help grinning.

“Okay, that’s enough. Things are crap. Things are crapper than a crap thing from crap land and I know that isn’t the wittiest bit of banter that I’ve ever come up with, but I think it pretty much sums up the situation right now. So we stop with the posturing and the accusations and we start to focus. There’s major bad going down, however you cut it, and the only way we’re going to get through this is one piece is if we stop with the bitching and concentrate. Okay?” There’s another embarrassed silence and then grudging nods from everyone, even the witch, although I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got her own plans.

“Right, it seems pretty obvious that we need to get the skinny on what’s going on, on the inside of The Initiative. We need to do a little recon, and Riley, sorry, it’s not like I don’t trust you, but you are still officially working for them so I don’t trust you on your own. I’m proposing that I go in with Riley under cover. He can go in legitimately and I think I can still pull off the soldier thing pretty convincingly. And Buffy, before you say anything, you know you can’t go. You’ll be recognised and after the whole trying to kill you deal, it’s probably not a good idea for you to been seen by the rest of the soldiers, especially if they think you had something to do with Dr Walsh’s death.”

I can see that she wants to argue with him, but she can’t fault his logic. Now I just have to deal with the other missing piece of the equation. “So, pet, suppose you want me to dress up in a bit of khaki as well, blend in with the natives while we go on this little picnic?” Little bugger’s actually shaking his head at me and I suddenly realise that he really is planning to go solo. Over my dead body.

“Sorry, Spike. It’s just me and Riley, it has to be. I can’t risk exposing you to The Initiative. Hell, you escaped once, but look what they did to you. I don’t intend to lose you a second time, so the answer is no.” He’s still got a grip on my hand, but he’s now turned towards me, shutting the others out and he’s pleading with his eyes for me to understand. And I do. That’s the reason I can’t let him go alone, because I’m damned if he’s going to walk into that cess pit without someone he can trust to watch his back.

“I’m not arguing with you, love. Either you accept that I’m coming, or I’ll just follow two paces behind. Anyway, I think I’ve got as much chance of staying under the radar as you have, in your dress up uniforms. Can be another lab rat, being escorted around by a couple of soldier boys. That lot think every demon is lower than pond life – they just look straight through us. No one’s going to give us a second look, yeah?”

I can see him mulling the thought over in his mind and can tell the split second when he makes his decision. “Okay, it’s a good plan. Doesn’t mean that I don’t hate it, but that’s a whole different thing. This way, we get to see what’s going on for ourselves, try to find out a bit more about 314 and hopefully get to the bottom of who killed Dr Walsh.” He turns and looks at Riley and the soldier holds his gaze for a moment and then looks at the floor. Nice to see he’s got some shame about him. “Riley, are you cool with this? I’m not trying to force you into anything but you know we need you to get access to the facility, so I need to be sure that you’re with us.”

“Yes, I’m with you. I can get you in.” His voice is soft and defeated as he speaks and it’s amazing how such a big man can suddenly look so small.

“Thank you, I know this isn’t easy.” He’s smart, my boy. Knows when to take charge, and when to show his appreciation. There’s a few others I can think of who could take some lessons. “Okay I’m glad we got that sorted. It’s too late to start anything now and I think we could all do with getting some sleep. So we’ll do it tomorrow, hopefully that will also give the hue and cry a chance to die down. Riley can you meet us back here at 1800 and bring a spare uniform?”

Again there’s a nod of assent and I think he knows that he’s lost any illusion of control over things. Maybe he’ll realise how I feel!

"Okay, see you later guys. Stay safe and keep a low profile and we’ll be back tomorrow.”

The Watcher nods briefly and the Slayer just smiles and goes back to watching her boyfriend. Or should that be ex-boyfriend? The witch is staring at her shoes like she can’t bear to look at us and I can’t resist one last dig. “Right then, like my boy says, we’ll be off. Probably got a bit of a scrap brewing tomorrow, and I’ve got a bit of a routine I like to go through before a fight.”

“You mean like a meditation, or something?” I know Rupes’ interest is purely academic, but it’s the witch I’m watching as she looks up, eager to collect another piece of esoteric knowledge.

“Or something, Rupert, definitely or something!” I run one hand possessively up Xander’s back, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. The Watcher just rolls his eyes and it looks like the Slayer’s found something really interesting under her fingernails, but the witch is blushing so hard I don’t know where her skin stops and her hair starts. My boy’s suddenly dragging me towards the door as quick as he can and I let him have his way, but I can’t help one last glance backwards and the witch is staring at me, loathing clear in her eyes. Oh yeah, I can definitely still hurt humans, it’s just a case of choosing the right battlefield.


	17. Realisations 16: Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go undercover

_  
**Realisations 16: Descent**   
_   


  
“Pet, I really don’t want you to do this. I know that you know that and I know that it’s not going to make a blind bit of difference, but for the record, I don’t want you to do this. The Initiative is bad news and I don’t trust the farm boy as far as I could throw him. Know he wilted like last week’s spinach when the Watcher pressed him, but there was something not quite right. Can’t put my finger on it, but I’m betting he knows more than he’s letting on.”

He stops in the act of pulling on his T-shirt and I reckon it’s a measure of how damn worried I am, that I don’t even take advantage of the moment, then he shrugs and shakes his head, pulling the thin cotton down with one smooth movement. “Well I don’t disagree with you there. I’m trying to think what I’d be like in Riley’s situation. He’s an undercover agent; of course he’s not telling us everything he knows. The important thing is that we know that. I think he was genuinely shocked by Dr Walsh’s death and if he’s rationalising that helping us will help him get to the bottom of that, then I’ll take whatever we can get. I think we’ve all done deals with the devil in our time, don’t you?”

Ouch! “Don’t know what you mean, love.”

He just grins at me and shakes his head again. “Yeah, right! I know that you’re worried, Spike, I really do. And when this is all over, I promise that we will get away from the Hellmouth. But I can’t go while there’s some big evil going down. Please understand?”

“Trouble is, there’s always going to be some big shit or other going down, pet. You’re not superman, you can’t stop speeding bullets or leap tall buildings and that scares the hell out of me.”

“Yeah, but I’d look really cool with my underwear on top of my pants.”

He’s got so much bravado, masking the worry of what lies ahead and I suppose I have to follow his lead. “Who said anything about you wearing underwear, pet. Thought we’d had that conversation.”

“We have. And normally I’m all commando guy. But right now we’re going to infiltrate a secret government facility so I’m wearing every bit of protection I’ve got. Means I’ve got an extra layer if I wet myself.” Hmmm, just a little bit of honesty leaking through, he must be scared shitless.

“You’ll be fine, pet. I’ve got your back and we’ll make sure the farm boy is out in front, so he’ll be in the line of fire if anything goes down, yeah?”

“Always the pragmatist, Spike! It’s kind of comforting in a psychotic, ‘I’ve got a scary boyfriend’ kind of a way.”

“Don’t your forget it!”

“I won’t.” He takes a deep breath, staring at his boots for a moment and then looks up at me, the fear now clear in his eyes. “Spike, is this going to work?"

“’Course it will, pet. A few gits in green aren’t a match for what we’ve got going for us. They don’t stand a bloody chance.”

There’s a strained smile, but I stand my ground and focus on him and finally I can see him start to relax. Job done. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for the pep talk. Let’s go do this.” Christ, I should have got an Oscar for that little performance.

************  
The whole motley crew are waiting at the Watcher’s place. The Slayer is still fretting about not getting in on the action, but I know she can’t argue with the reasons, although it doesn’t stop her having a go. The witch is standing by the kitchen door keeping as far away from me as possible. Suits me. She hasn’t tried to talk us out of anything, but she does look fairly horrified when Finn hands my boy a side arm. I think this lot forget that we’re dealing with the military here and they don’t do their dirty work with fifteenth century weaponry. I’m not sure what upsets her more – the fact that he’s carrying the gun, or the fact that he obviously knows how to handle it. The Watcher is standing by the door, doing what he does best. He’s got a strange expression on his face that’s half way between anxious and jealous, like he fancies getting in on the action, if only he had the chance.

Got to give credit where credit’s due, even if it hurts my teeth to admit it, but the soldier boy’s definitely come up with the goods – extra uniform, weaponry and even a set of restraints for yours truly, and although I’ll be damned if he’s going to get them anywhere near me, I’ve got to acknowledge the forward thinking. I turn and watch my boy, he’s got himself all dressed up and I just want to throw him over the nearest hard surface and fuck his brains out. Never understood folk getting off on dressing up before, but as I look at him, all macho and standing at ease, running through procedures with Iowa and checking over his gun, I’m starting to see the attraction. I don’t really like the sludgy green, but maybe when this is over we can take it a trip to a sex shop in LA I know – see if they’ve got something similar in leather…

“Spike. Earth to Spike!”

Shit, better pay attention. “Yeah, love.”

“We’re all set, if you are? You seemed like you were on another planet there.”

“Sorry, pet. Just thinking about stuff. So let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

He just flashes a grin at me, gestures to the soldier and we file out – Corn Bread in the lead, me in the middle and Xan at my back. It’s a good idea to keep a plausible formation right from the start in case we’re spotted. I can almost feel my boy’s eyes boring into my back and I wish I could do more to reassure him that we’re going to be fine, but the game’s started and there’s no stopping now.

It’s a clear evening and it doesn’t take long to get to the frat house. For a moment I think we’re going right in the front door and I’m wondering just how thick frat boys are if soldiers can walk about unnoticed, when we skirt round back and between two overgrown tangles of ancient laurels. The path gets narrower the further on we go and it’s just the perfect place for an ambush, if you were a demon wanting to snack on something young and tasty. Kind of ironic that it’s leading to somewhere that would have most demons running in the other direction. A branch brushes against my face, it’s damp leaves clinging to the side of my neck for a moment and I’ve got this absurd flash of the generic blonde girl from a thousand horror movies going down into the cellar because she’s heard a noise. Can’t believe I’m doing the same damn thing.

Suddenly soldier boy comes to an abrupt halt and, as I stop behind him, I can feel Xan’s hand on my back, stroking gently. He knows damn fine I don’t want to be here, but he also knows that I couldn’t sit back and let him go alone.

“Okay, this is the back door. We usually bring the HST’s in this way. It’s more discreet and usually they’re out for the count so there’s no danger of us being compromised. So if the location of this gets out, I will know where to come looking, okay!”

“Quite the manly man aren’t you, Iowa. All puffed up in your freshly pressed Ken doll uniform. Think you’ve got all 'The Right Stuff?’

“Spike, please not now. We need to keep it together and winding Riley up isn’t going to help. And anyway 'The Right Stuff’ was about test pilots, unless of course you’ve got a undiscovered fetish for the back catalogue of mid 80’s boy bands and if so , can you keep it to yourself ‘til after this is over.”

His tone is all serious, but he’s grinning at me, and after a moment I can’t help grinning back. “Got all sorts of fetishes we haven’t explored yet, pet. Anyway, poxy band, but the movie was pretty neat. Like you say, when this is over, we’ll test out what kind of G-force you can stand.”

“If you two don’t mind, I would like to get this over with, as quickly as possible. The longer we stay out here, the more chance we have of being spotted.” Oh, soldier boy’s sounding a bit tetchy, but I suppose he’s probably right, though there’s no way I’d say that out loud. My boy nods and then pushes me forward and Finn puts a complicated series of numbers into a concealed key pad and the door slides back noiselessly. I’m kind of disappointed, because with the atmosphere and the whole mad scientist thing going on, I kind of wanted the full gothic experience complete with rusting hinges and creaky floorboards. But this is the military and the only thing they know how to do is spit and polish and stick their nose in where it isn’t wanted.

We pass through the door one at a time and it slides silently back into place. I can’t help glancing back over my shoulder, Xander’s face is in shadow, but I can see the white knuckled grip he’s got on his gun and I know he’s just as nervous as I am.

Finn jerks his head once and we’re off, just a run of the mill delivery patrol in a top secret military base. Christ, we must be off our heads. The corridors are non-descript – grey and functional and after five minutes or so I’d give up my last packet of fags for a bit of colour. Suddenly soldier boy stops, and executes a smart salute and I feel Xander’s hand grip around my forearm like he’s restraining me. Finn moves aside and there’s a taller man with a pile of scout badges on his uniform striding towards us. He acknowledges the salute and stops briefly, looking us up and down.

“Finn?”

“Sir. Just delivering an escaped HST back to the facility for further conditioning, sir.”

“Good, work Finn.” His eyes harden as he moves forward and stands in front of me. There’s so much contempt in his face and I can’t help returning the compliment. Bones crunch and rearrange and I grin at him, flashing a bit of fang and looking appreciatively at the side of his neck. He obviously doesn’t like the zoo animals having an attitude, ‘cause just as I run my tongue across my bottom lip, his fist lashes out, catching me in the gut and I react on instinct. But before I hardly start to move, my head feels like it’s going to explode and I sink down the wall with my head on my knees. I don’t have to see the git’s face to know that he’s smirking.

“Well it’s nice to see the chip’s still working. The attitude is still there however, so we need to work on that. I’ll leave it your capable hands, Finn.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Corn bread’s reply is right out of a text book, but from his tone I bet he’d just love to follow that particular order in his own special way. I hear the footsteps move slightly and realise that the bastard’s now stopped in front of my boy and I force myself to ride out the pain and look up. Xander’s standing, ramrod straight, eyes front, playing the good little soldier and if I wasn’t so scared of what might happen, I’d be so fucking proud of him right now.

“I don’t recognise you, soldier.”

“Private Jesse MacNally, sir. Just reassigned. Agent Finn was showing me the ropes, sir.”

“Watch and learn, soldier. Don’t let your guard down for a second. HST’s are a disease. They need to be eradicated, but like any infection, we need to understand it first before we can kill it. Don’t let them lull you into any false sense of security, especially scum like this who look human. They’re not, remember that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Right then, get to it.” He nods once and both soldiers, real and pretend, salute as he strides away and heave a big sigh of relief as the corridor is sudden quiet again.

All at once, my boy has a hand on my arm, pulling me up and his eyes are full of concern and anger. “Shit, Spike. Are you okay? I can’t believe I just stood there while he hit you. This was such a bad idea. We shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have let you come. We should turn round right now and get out of here while we still can.”

“Sssh, pet. Calm down. I’m fine. Had a lot worse from Angelus over the years, a little tin pot martinet like that hits like a girl. I know you couldn’t do anything, was proud the way you kept your cover. And we need to keep going, we haven’t found what we came here for and we’re probably only going to get the one chance at this.”

I run my hand down his face and rub gently across his top lip and get a soft kiss to a fingertip in return. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry. Just a bad case of the wiggins. I’m fine.”

A cough interrupts us. “Well, if you’re finished with the Hallmark moment, maybe we can get out of the open and find what we came for, and get the hell out before we have another close encounter.” With that he’s moving off quickly and all we can do is follow.

Another five minutes of twists and turns and I’m completely lost. If the farm boy does a runner now we’re absolutely buggered and I can almost feel the tension radiating off the boy behind me, so I know he’s thinking exactly the same thing. Suddenly Finn puts his arm up, signalling us to stop and turns round, whispering, “Okay, Room 314 is round the next corner. I’m going to go ahead and check it’s clear, then I’ll signal you.” He doesn’t wait for a reply; git is used to having his orders followed.

He’s only gone a moment before he reappears and signals for us to move forward and now I just want to get this over with. Xan is right at my back as we turn the corner and see the door. And it’s just a door. Somehow I was expecting something more impressive, like a nuclear bunker. We cautiously open it and file through. The walls inside are as grey as the rest of the building and I wonder again what the hell we’re doing.

“Right, I got you in here. I don’t know what you expect to find. We can have a look around, but as I said, it’s just a lab, the same as all the other labs.” He’s looking all business like, but there’s something a bit off with his voice, it’s just a little bit rough and strained at the edges and he’s sweating – he’s behind me, but I can smell it trickling down the back of his neck. Then it hits me – smell. The place smells like a morgue and as I take another sniff, I realise it’s worse than that. It smells like a charnel house and my first instinct is to grab the boy and run.

“Spike, are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” His voice is full of worry and I’m not sure that I’ve got anything to calm him down this time. Bastard soldier, brought us here, he must have known what was going on, and for the first time I let the fear and anger of the last hour bubble over.

“You knew, didn’t you? Knew what happened here, didn’t you?”

The soldier’s looking at me, horror clear in his eyes and as I stalk towards him, he backs away while Xan looks on in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I can smell it, soldier. Death. This place stinks of death. You brought us here, knowing what it was like.”

“Spike, what’s going on?”

“This place stinks worse than an abattoir. Whatever shit happened here, the farm boy knew all about it. Thought you said you didn’t know anything about 314? Knew you were a lying fucker.”

Iowa’s flat against the wall now, eying the door as I stalk closer. For a moment I think he’s genuinely forgotten about the chip and I press the advantage, getting in his face. He thinks I’m going to hit him and I can almost see the split second he remembers I can’t hurt him and he starts to move forward. But he’s just a baby, he’s not match for me, ‘cause I didn’t last as long as I have just by being a Master Vampire. It’s because I always do the unexpected and that’s something these gits will never understand. He comes toward me, fast, anger clouding his strategy and I move to the side in one smooth move and grab at his gun, flip off the safety and jab it in the middle of his back before he can work out where I’ve gone. “I think you’ve forgotten your manners, boy. And before you do anything stupid, I do know how to use one of these things. Not all of us still live in the dark ages when it comes to weaponry. Got to move with the times, keep up with the opposition.”

He’s so tense, trying to keep still while he works out his next move and out of the corner of my eye I can see Xander standing by a computer console, watching the action, but staying out of the way for now. The soldier twitches slightly and exhales slowly. “You’re all talk, Spike. The chip, remember, you can’t hurt me.” He sounds so smug.

“Could be right at that. But I’ve got a theory that if I shoot you, I’m not the one hurting you. It’s the bullet and the gun, not me. Might not be good science, but I’m willing to experiment if you’re game. Even if I’m wrong, I’ll still get to pull the trigger and do a bit of damage before the migraine starts. So what do you think, soldier boy? Do you feel lucky?”

I can’t see his face, but every slight movement of his shoulders is telling me he’s working out the odds and the variables, and then suddenly it’s over and he seems to crumple in front of me. Score!

I move round and he backs up slowly ‘til he’s up against the wall again, eyeing the gun warily. The show’s over and I see Xander start to search around the room again, looking for clues. He knows to leave this kind of stuff to me. My attention switches back to Finn and I can’t help grinning at him as I hold the gun casually aimed at his groin. “So talk, boy. Tell me what’s going on and you might just walk out of here.”

“Okay, okay. I didn’t lie, not really. I did know about 314, but only because this is where Dr Walsh was killed. She was always closeted in here and the last couple of times she came out to give us orders, she looked pretty pleased with herself.” He’s got his eye fixed on the gun, watching my finger rubbing up and down the trigger and now he’s talking faster now, almost babbling and it’s a good look on him. “I just assumed her lab work was going well. She gets all these research grants and you need to produce results to justify the funding. But then she was killed in here, and I thought she’d been staked, and then Mr Giles started talking about unsanctioned activities and The Initiative maybe being involved in people’s deaths and I panicked. Dr Walsh took me under her wing, mentored me and gave me opportunities I couldn’t have dreamed off. I couldn’t stand the suggestion that she might have been involved with something she shouldn’t have been. So I lied. I wanted to get another look in the lab, to see if there was anything there. Something to prove that she wasn’t this monster you guys were painting her to be.”

“Hmmm, guys.” I’ve been so focused on Finn that I’d lost track of what my boy was up to, but now he’s got my full attention. He’s standing by a state of the art printer with a piece of paper in his hand and the look on his face tells me it’s nothing good. “I thought I’d have a look round, see if I could find any clues while you finished doing the whole Dirty Harry thing. The printer was flashing that it was out of paper, so I thought I’d put some in and see what happened. Looks like someone had set up a print run when they got interrupted and didn’t refill the tray." He hands the bit of paper over, finger and thumb at the edge like he’s afraid to touch it, and there’s a knot right at the bottom of my gut as I take it from him.

It’s a technical drawing, done on one of those fancy computer packages. There’s a full anatomy drawing, like a parody of DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man, but instead of human parts, whole sections of the body seems to be a hodge podge of demon parts. There are detailed figures and equations next to every body part and I’m glad I didn’t eat before we started this thing because I really want to heave.

Drawing an unneeded breath, I pass the drawing to Finn, growling at him as he starts to study it. It only takes a second to hit him and I can’t help one final punch to help him hit the canvas. “You said you wanted to prove that Maggie Walsh wasn’t the monster we thought she was. Seems like you were wrong. Looks like she was tired of being on her own. Needed to create a monster to keep her company. You fucking bastards. Scientists, soldiers, you just don’t get it. You come in, meddling with things you don’t understand and you think you can play Frankenstein. You don’t have a bloody clue. And now it’s up to the rest of us to clean up the mess.” He’s sliding down the wall still shaking his head, like denial will make it all go away and I want to grab him and shake him like a rat, but I remember the chip and back away before my temper gets the better of me.

“Spike? What do we do now?” My boy’s got his hand on my arm and as I look at him, he suddenly looks absurdly young, playing at soldiers with his toy gun. Only it isn’t a toy and this isn’t a game and there’s only one thing left to do.

“Got to get out of here, pet. Need to get back to the surface before we get caught. We can figure out what happens next when we get there.”

“Okay. And Riley?”

“Oh, the farm boy is coming with us, pet. Not leaving him down here to tell any tales. If he gives you any trouble, shoot him.”

“Spike!”

“It’s not like I can do it.” I just know what he’s going to say next and I head him off at the pass. “It was a bluff, pet. Didn’t really believe all that bollocks about the gun being to blame, did you? Worked a treat, though!” I glance down at Finn to see if he’s listening, but he’s still staring at the paper and I don’t think he’d hear a herd of elephants right now. “Don’t mean kill him, although I’d like to. Just wing him, but not so he can’t walk. An elbow or a shoulder should do the trick.” He’s looking at me all wide eyed and I sometimes think, with the way our relationship has progressed recently, that he forgets that I’ve got a hundred years of killing under my belt and the only thing stopping me now is a little piece of metal. He takes a breath and nods shakily, gesturing to the soldier with the tip of his gun. There’s no response and I crouch down in front of him. “Oi, farm boy. Got to move out of here.” For a moment I think Finn’s going to make this difficult, but then he pushes himself off the floor and stands passively as I take the paper off him, waiting for orders, just like a good little soldier.

I signal for him to go first and as he passes I take the clip out of his weapon and hand it back and he stares at me in surprise. “Got to have your gun to keep up appearances, but I’m not stupid enough to give you ammunition to go with it. And no funny business, ‘cause my boy here has a weapon that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, just moves out, and I swing in behind him. Xander’s at my back and we’re moving in double quick time. However fast we go, it can’t ever be fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **A/N**  
>  The Right Stuff was a book by Tom Wolfe and turned into a movie by Philip Kaufman, starring Dennis Quaid, Sam Shepherd, Ed Harris and Scott Glen. It's a brilliant movie - very long, but terrific. Here's the wiki link <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Right_Stuff_%28film%29>
> 
> The Right Stuff was also one of the best known hits of mid 80's American boy band New Kids on the Block. Again here's the link if you care about such things <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Kids_on_the_Block> I hear they're doing a reunion tour - shudder...


	18. Realisations 17: Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try to get out of The Initiative

_  
**Realisations 17: Countdown**   
_   


  
I can’t believe we’re doing this. Trying to get out of a secret government facility which tortures demons and has mad scientists who want to play Frankenstein and potentially create a load of monsters to terrorise the other monsters. Logic much. I wonder how long it will take for the Initiative's monsters to stop focusing on the Hellmouth’s underground population and start on the rest of us. Probably as long as it takes for one of them to get a taste of the locals acting like cattle and saying ‘come eat me, I’m stupid.’ God, it’s like Animal Farm come to life. Not that I’ve actually read it, but the animated movie was pretty cool and it got the point across. All demons and monsters are definitely not equal and the ones created by Uncle Sam probably have an attitude problem the size of a small South American country.

But the thing that really gets me is, we’ve practically kidnapped a member of the US military. Okay, it’s just Riley, but that’s so not the point. I’m here, with the gun and the ammunition and the order to shoot. Not to kill, obviously, and I appreciate that Spike made the distinction ‘cause right now I’m all about the nuance. If it comes to any kind of a trial, I’ll be nuance boy. But still, he wants me to shoot Riley if he makes a run for it, or tries to turn us in, or just generally doesn’t do everything Spike says. And the thing that really scares me is that I know that I’d do it.

Okay got to stop with the mental babble. Focus, that’s the name of the game. God, I wish it was all a game. I’m looking at the back of Spike’s neck, and at the crease in the back of his duster where he’s got his shoulders back, swaggering behind Riley, and I’d give anything to be back in one of the motel rooms on the road trip, while he whispered dirty thoughts and told me about all the games we were going to play. In fact, I’d give just about anything to be anywhere but here, but I’m not going to ‘wish’ ‘cause even when we’re in really deep shit, I know better than to use the ‘w’ word. So I’ve just got to concentrate and deal with what’s coming. Knowing my luck it’s probably a train.

I notice that Riley has slowed right down as we reach the intersection of yet another grey corridor and I have to stop myself bumping right into Spike, not that he’d mind. “Riley, what’s going on?”

He looks back and I can see the tension in his face. Looks like I’m not the only one that’s freaked. “I was just checking that the coast was clear.” He turns back and after one last, long look in each direction, he turns right and starts to walk away, not looking to see if we’re following. Spike turns to me, winks once and then strides after him and the only thing I can do is follow.

There’s something niggling at the back of my head, but I can’t put my finger on it ‘til we pass a series of what look like storage closets. They’re grey as well, with a thin red stripe down the centre, like someone got tired of prank painting mail boxes and tried to brighten the place up a bit. I’m starting to formulate a joke about the ‘thin red line’ when I realise what’s been bugging me and I jog to catch up and grab Riley’s arm, forcing him to stop. “This isn’t the way we came in. We didn’t pass those doors last time, Riley. Is this a set up, because I really don’t fancy becoming Hostile 18, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let those bastard doctors get their hands on Spike again?”

He looks like he’s genuinely hurt by the accusation, but after a moment he sighs and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that. Don’t you think I’d end up in there, along with you? I’ve compromised my own position, just by bringing you down here, so I’m not exactly going to go running back to them. You’re right, this isn’t the way we came in. There’s too much traffic on that corridor. I was crazy to come that way in the first place. After our close encounter, I didn’t want to risk it again. But there are other exits, other parts of the facility that aren’t as busy. I thought trying one of them would at least give us a fighting chance of getting out in one piece. Okay?”

My opinion of Riley keeps changing, every five minutes – ‘potential Buffy boyfriend material’, ‘beefcake academic’, ‘secret ops, maybe ally’, ‘hard core military extremist’, ‘victim’. I can’t make up my mind which one he really is, but listening to him talking right now, I settle on ‘seriously scared guy with a strong sense of self preservation’. It’s not perfect, but I can live with it for the time being. “Okay. That makes sense. Let’s get going.” I look at Spike, but he’s already staring ahead to where we’re going next.

I’m sure it’s only another few minutes, but I feel like we’ve been walking for hours, and I have vague memories of Willow telling me about the guy in the labyrinth. Maybe I should have thought about bringing some string, but I suppose it would have been a bit of a give away. My palm is damp where it’s clamped around the top of the gun, and I ease it off slowly and wipe my hand down the side of my pants.

The place is strangely silent, and I can’t help feeling like I’m in some kind of sci fi movie – metal walls and floor, dim lighting and eerie silence - I kind of expect the Alien monster to burst out of one of the roof vents at any moment. I start to picture the scene in my head, as if I’m trying to prove that anything in my imagination has to be scarier than the stuff that’s real. But I was born on the Hellmouth and should know by now that reality is always more terrifying than anything Hollywood could dream about.

Shutting down the babble in my head, I realise that Riley’s talking again and pay attention. “Okay, this is where it’s going to get hairy. We’re going out via the holding cells. They’re all locked so nothing can get out at you and they’re usually fairly quiet, apart from a small medical team. There are two long corridors on a right angle, intersected by a number of feeder passages going to other parts of the facility. Before you ask, they are patrolled, but only once every 15 minutes. Most of the boys try to avoid it if they can; this place gives them the creeps. So it’s usually the rookies who finish up with this detail. By my watch, the patrol should have occurred 7.5 minutes ago, unless there have been changes to the schedule in the wake of Dr Walsh’s death. So we’ve got the same time again to get through and out the other side. There’s a tunnel which brings you out in one of the crypts in Restfield. If we meet anyone, we stick to the original story.”

He’s trying to act so confident, like his didn’t collapse like a marshmallow, back in 314, but now isn’t the time to call him on it. We still need him to get us out and he’s the familiar face if anyone questions us. I can see Spike doesn’t like it and I can imagine him formulating a dozen snarky comments about the soldiers being brave enough to ambush a demon when they’ve got a tazer in their hand, then not having the stomach to see what happens afterwards. But for once he holds his tongue and I wonder how he’s feeling about going back into the place where he was held.

I look round quickly and then curl my fingers round his wrist, squeezing gently and he turns towards me and gives me the eyebrow! “Nothing else for it, love. Soldier’s right, we can’t risk going back the way we came in, so it looks like door number three is our only option right now. Keep your eyes peeled and trigger finger ready and we’ll get through this, yeah?”

He sounds so damn casual and confident, but it’s an act. A damn good act, I have to admit, but I can read him like a book. The eyebrow gets even higher, if that were possible, and I just nod and squeeze his arm again before letting go. I know how to play along, just like he does, so I give him his cue. “Okay, blondie, lets get this show on the road. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

“I could eat, pet. Pizza would be good, dunked in a little bit of O pos, would just hit the spot.”

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Riley looking at us, a mixture of disgust and confusion on his face. He doesn’t get it and I can’t even begin to explain, so I concentrate back on the job at hand. “Riley, are you set?”

“Ready to roll. And while you two were making eyes at each other we lost more time. So, seven minutes left.” He turns abruptly back to the door and eases it open, watching cautiously for any activity. “Okay, it looks clear, let's get out of here.”

We move in close formation behind him and start down the brightly lit corridor. Everything is stark - metal and glass – angles and edges. There’s no comfort here, nowhere to hide and the hairs on the back of my neck are almost vertical as I think of Spike being locked up in this place. He’s still got the swagger as he moves behind Riley, but there’s a rigidity in his shoulders, and his nails are digging into his palms, and I just know that he’s screaming inside.

We march down between the rows of holding pens as quickly as we can without drawing attention to ourselves. It looks like nearly every cell is full and I’ve never seen so many species of demon in one place, outside the opening of the Hellmouth. Vampires, Fyarl, Sepavro, Polagra, they’re all here. There are even some babies – they’re a kind of mottled grey and slightly furry and for a moment I freeze and stare at them. But they don’t look at me. I’m a soldier and they don’t look me in the eye. I can’t wrap my mind around the idea that they would torture children, whatever the species, and I can’t believe I’m going to walk way and leave them. There’s a hand on my arm, tugging at my uniform and I look up to see Riley staring at me. “Xander, we have to go. You can’t help them. You’ll only get yourself killed. We’ve got six minutes, 30 left, we have to move.”

I know he’s right - leave them now and hope to save them later – it’s a rationalisation that makes me want to heave, but I know it’s the only option we’ve got. I turn my back and follow the others, hating myself with every step and I’m pretty sure I’m being watched, now that it’s safe to look.

We continue onwards and the seconds tick by, when suddenly it’s Spike’s turn to stop and I almost skid on the polished floor with the abruptness of the halt. Riley’s a few paces in front before he realises we’re not following and he turns back impatiently. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, mystified, as Spike stands in front of an empty cell, just staring, his hands bunched into fists at his side. “Spike? What’s the matter?”

He just thrusts his hands deep into the pockets of his duster, turns away and starts walking again. Riley looks at him for a moment, then down at his watch. “Six minutes.” Then he moves away and as I start to follow I catch sight of the small key pad at the side of the empty cell. There’s a number etched onto the top of the pad and that’s when it hits me. Seventeen. Jesus, no wonder he freaked. I stare for a few seconds more, trying to imagine what he must be feeling, but I can’t even begin to go there and I force myself to start moving and follow them, before they get out of sight. When we get out of here, we are definitely going to have a long talk.

I catch up and Riley just looks back and then away. He’s obviously realised why Spike stopped. He knew. He was there and my opinion of him changes again. I wonder if taking us out this way is his revenge on Spike for what happened in 314, or did he really just not think that a ‘hostile’ would have feelings. I want to say something, but Riley’s in full soldier mode, even without an active weapon, scanning the corridor and the cells for activity and checking our timetable. “Five minutes, 30.”

Okay, we’re nearly there according to Riley. Just one more corridor and then we’re into the tunnels under Restfield and we’re safe. Just over five minutes to go. I’ve stopped looking at the demons in the cells. Ever since I saw the babies I can’t look at them any more. Now it’s just impressions of colour and texture, of a horn, or hoof, or teeth, as we march past. I’m wearing the uniform and now I’m getting the mentality as well. Don’t look at them. Don’t engage. Don’t think of them as ‘people’. Don’t think. I’m watching Spike’s back and listening to the thump of his boots on the floor and Riley’s counting down the deadline: five minutes.

Almost there. I can see the door at the end, and there’s only a few cells left to pass now. My mind continues to catalogue the characteristics of the demons that are left. Vampire – teeth. Polagra – spine in arm. Nasalos – tail. Nasalos… All of a sudden I get a flashback to the club in San Francisco - there were two Nasalos demons getting their groove on to Prince and the things they were doing with their tails made my eyes cross. I stop and stare at the demon but, like the babies, he doesn’t meet my eye and when I feel Spike’s hand on my wrist I let him pull me away, unresisting. Now the soldier persona is crumbling in my head and my hand comes away from the gun like it might burn me and I promise myself to look and remember every demon in the few remaining cells between here and the door.

Fyarl – killers if threatened, pack instinct. According to Spike, great at poker ‘cause you can never tell what they’re thinking.

Pockla – tall, thin, claws. Healers, if everything I’ve read is true.

Parohal – one horn, blue, hair running down the length of the spine. Fortune tellers - I wonder if they saw this coming?

I continue to register each occupant as we pass the cells on the way to the door. Riley does his count. “Four minutes, 30.” There’s only two cells to go now, two more demons to remember and I start the mental catalogue again. Small, red hair, pale skin. He’s in the corner with his back to the door. He’s naked and from the corridor he looks almost human. I know we’re running out of time, but I need to know what he is, so that I can remember. Stopping by the glass frontage I put my hand on the barrier between us and watch the small body tense, like he senses someone’s there. Gradually he turns around, hands wrapped around his small body protectively, and he looks me in the eye.

Oz!

Oh my god, it’s Oz. But he left. He went to get his wolf under control. When did he get back? The questions are bubbling in my head, but I can’t get them out.

“Xander? Xander, we’ve got to move. We’ve got four minutes before the next patrol. We have to hurry.” Riley’s in my face, tapping at his watch as I struggle to get my head round the idea that one of my friends is in that cell. “Xander!”

I turn quickly, grasping him at the elbow. “Riley, do you know the codes for the door?”

“Of course I do, how else do you think I was going to get it open so we can get into the tunnels.” He’s got that ‘duh’ expression on his face like I’ve just confirmed what he’s known all along – that I’m stupid, and a dozen comebacks flit through my mind, but this isn’t the time for a pissing contest.

“Not the exit door. The cell doors! Do you know the codes?” He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I need you to open this door.” Perhaps I should try words of one syllable.

“Xander, that’s a hostile. He might look human, but looks can be deceptive. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t dangerous.”

“Riley, that is not a ‘hostile’, but I’m going to get very hostile in a moment if you don’t open the door. That’s Oz. We went to school together. He used to date Willow. He was even in a couple of Dr Walsh’s classes, remember? He got bitten by a werewolf last year and he’s been trying to cope with it ever since.”

“Xander we don’t have time for this. We’ve got less than four minutes left. We’ve got to go.”

He shakes my hand off his arm and starts to move back towards the exit, but Spike’s in the way and as Riley pauses, assessing the threat, I take out my gun and very deliberately push it against his shoulder. “So let’s stop wasting time. Don’t make me do this, Riley. Please. I know I can’t save everyone that’s down here. But I can save Oz now. He’s not a danger to anyone and he locks himself up at the full moon. You can call me a hypocrite and I won’t disagree, but I need you to open the door.”

His shoulders are set and the clock is ticking while he struggles with his conscience. I can see Oz watching me out of the corner of my eye. He’s moved to the front of the cell, still crouched down, but watching the action, face as inscrutable as ever. There are bruises and half healed burn marks across his arms and thighs and I understand that he’s being wary, scoping out the new situation and getting ready to run or retreat depending on what happens. “Please, Riley, would you leave a friend behind if they were injured?”

I can almost see the moment he breaks. On top of Dr Walsh’s death and the revelations about the monster she was building, it’s just one last straw. In the end he’s a soldier, he wouldn’t leave a buddy behind if there was anything he could do to help. He nods once and moves towards the door, taps in the code and then glances at his watch. “Three minutes.”

The glass wall slides back and I wait for Oz to come out, but he just stays there, watching us, a faint tremor running through his body. I know we’re running out of time, but I force myself to be calm and bend down ‘til I’m eye to eye with him, and smile like we’ve got all the time in the world. “Thought you went to Tibet?”

He shrugs, then winces as the movement pulls at a burn mark on his shoulder. “Got sidetracked.” He looks me up and down and quirks an eyebrow like a mini Spike. “That’s a new look on you.”

“Yeah, doesn’t suit me though. I don’t think this dressing up gig is my thing.” I’m just about to pull my jacket off when there’s the unmistakable rustle of leather at my side.

I look up and Spike’s standing there, holding out his duster, his expression unreadable. “Look a bit cold, wolf boy. Better cover up before we all get snow blind from all that paleness.”

Oz just grins and takes the offering, sliding himself into the leather, pulling it around his body. “Thanks.”

“Make sure you take care of it.” Typical Spike, we’re seconds away from escaping from an evil military facility and he’s worried about his coat. That’s why I love him - the vamp’s got priorities! I watch him with what’s probably a goofy smile on my face as he strides over to the outside door and then turns back to face us. “Think we could go now?”

“Definitely.” I stand up, pulling Oz with me and look at Riley. “Thank you.”

He nods once, before moving to join Spike by the door. He’s punching in some numbers to the keypad and I look down at my watch. “One minute, 30.” The door remains shut and the wait seems to go on forever as Riley frowns and tries again. In the distance, I can hear the sound of feet matching in formation. “Riley.”

His hands hover over the keypad. “They’ve changed the code.”

The noise is getting closer and looking around at the stark glass and metal, I realise that there’s nowhere to hide. “Come on Riley, we’re running out of time.” I glance at my watch again. “One minute.”

He looks back down the corridor, alarm clear on his face as the sound of the patrol gets closer. “I’m going to use the override protocol.” His fingers fly over the keypad as he continues to talk. “We all have a personal code for use in emergencies. It’ll work, but I might as well leave a sign saying that I was here.” He finishes the last key punch and the door slides open.

I push Oz forward, passed Riley and through the door, and Spike follows, grabbing my hand as he goes. “Thirty seconds. Come on, Riley, move.”

He stands for a moment, obviously realising that he’s burned his boats with The Initiative by helping us. “Riley, move.” The sound of boots on metal is so close now, echoing on the metal walls of one of the feeder passages, and it seems to finally bring him to his senses. He steps into the tunnel and pushes a button inset into the rock wall and I take a final moment to register the demon in the last cell – vampire, teenager, dark hair, my age - then the door slides seamlessly back into place and he’s gone.

“Come on, let’s get moving before the gits find out they’ve lost a guest.” With that I heave a sigh of relief. We made it. Spike’s safe. Oz is safe. We’re all safe – apart from the demons we left behind. I look at Spike and it’s obvious that he knows what I’m thinking. “Soldier’s right, pet. Hate to admit it, but he is. You couldn’t save them, not right now. We need to get organised. We need to have a plan – just like we did with the Mayor, yeah? Then we’ll come back and blow the fuckers responsible straight to hell.”


	19. Realisations 18: Fanning the Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oz takes a shower, the gang get confused and Spike has a plan – oh dear!

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**Realisations 18: Fanning the Flames**   
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Right then, this is going to be a barrel of laughs. Show the Watcher the blueprint of the monster Walsh was building, and watch him tut and clean his glasses. Let the Slayer get her knickers in a twist, not knowing how to react to her former boyfriend because he lied through his teeth about 314. And watch the little witch tie herself in knots over the return of her ex-boyfriend – especially if I ask for my duster back. I do love a good family reunion.

“So, we’ve made it back in one piece. Let’s get this show on the road.” I look Riley in the eye. “Soldier boy, I’m not going to lie for you. You did your job when you got us out, so I’ll thank you for that, but don’t expect me to lie for you. The kiddies have a right to know about 314 and what your precious Doctor was up to. We need all the cards on the table if we’re going to get through this one, yeah?”

Riley holds my stare for a moment and then looks away. “I don’t expect you to lie for me, Spike. I made my decisions and I have to live with them. I’m not expecting Buffy to take me back, not after I accused her of being a murderer, but if she’ll listen, I will tell her why I lied about 314 – just like I told you.”

“Fair enough.”

I stand, staring at him for a moment, trying to decide whether to say anything more, when Xan leans into my side and nudges me. “Now that we’ve got that settled, do you think we could do this inside? It’s getting chilly out here and I think Oz is probably turning an interesting shade of blue under that coat.” That’s my boy, always the practical one, always looking out for everyone else.

“Sure thing, pet. Let’s get it over with.” With that, I move towards the Watcher’s door, banging on the heavy wood. I can hear the shuffling of feet on the other side as we’re checked out through the spy hole and then the door swings open and we’re in. “Watcher, nice to see you stayed up for us. Got the cocoa on the go? Wouldn’t mind some of those little marshmallows, if you’ve got them, and you can break out the good stuff while you’re at it.”

Rupes is just watching me, his expression torn between relieved to see us and pissed off that I’m walking around like I own the place. “Spike, get your own damn marshmallows and if you think I’m giving you any of my Glenmorangie, you’re even more deluded than I realised.”

I just grin at him and head for the cupboard where he keeps his booze and pour myself a stiff one while he stands there and tuts. I savour the flavour for a moment and then turn, knowing that they’re all watching me. Score! Gave the little wolf the chance to get in out of the cold without anyone noticing him slipping in behind Xan and the soldier boy. Angelus always liked to do a bit of grandstanding and it’s one of the things I’ve kept in my arsenal. That's the fun thing dealing with humans - they're so damn easy to play. “So, what you kiddies been up to while we’ve been away – telling stories, playing monopoly, strip poker?”

“Spike you’re a pig.” See the witch’s mood hasn’t improved any from the last time we crossed swords. Nice to know there are some things you can depend on.

“So I’ve been told, Red. So back off, you don’t eat bacon, remember?” Oh dear, inappropriate jokes about religion - gets them every time.

The soldier’s still standing by the door, keeping out of things, but I can see Xander’s itching to pour oil on the proverbial waters, but the Watcher is just a bit too quick for him. “Willow, please. Now is not the time for another confrontation, however provocative Spike is being. We need to know what happened in the Initiative.” She sighs, nodding her head, but the glare she’s got going as the Watcher turns back to speak to me would strip paint. “Spike, I take it you did get in, since it’s been several hours since you left.”

“Well we’ve not been down the pub, Rupert. We got in, alright. Nearly didn’t get out again, but we’re all safe and sound - all four of us.” He’s nodding absently, but the Slayer’s all over the comment and I guess it’s time for the reveal.

“What do you mean ‘four of you’? It was you, Xander and Riley.”

“Take a look, Slayer. Picked us up a stray along the way. I tilt my head back towards the door and as the attention in the room shifts, a small figure moves out from the shelter of Xander and Finn’s backs and steps further into the room.

“Umm, hey guys.” Got to hand it to wolf boy, so laid back you’d think he’d come back from a month’s holiday, instead of being locked away in that hell hole. There are tell tale tremors, if you know where to look, but he’s putting on a damn good show, standing there wrapped in my coat, watching the reactions as they ripple round the room.

There’s silence for a moment while they absorb the scene and then the witch squeaks fit to break a greenhouse full of glass. “Oz. Oh my god. What are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, ‘cause of course we’re glad to see you, but when did you get back? How was Tibet? Did you find the control you were after?” She pauses for a moment and suddenly it’s like she really looks and sees him clearly for the first time. “Um, Oz, why are you wearing Spike’s duster?”

“Would you rather see him bollock, naked? Although you probably would.” I can’t resist baiting her, it’s like teasing a pit bull, but I’ll get my jollies any way I can.

Then my boy steps in, like the good little diplomat he is. “Spike, stop teasing Willow!” I love him to bits, but he does spoil my fun sometimes. I think about interrupting, but he’s already turned back to the others. “As you’ll probably have figured out, we found Oz in The Initiative - in a cell!”

The hubbub that had started when the wolf appeared, stops again and the ball is back in the Watcher’s court. “What do you mean, you found him in a cell?”

“Would have thought that was obvious, Rupes. We got out through the holding pens. Found wolf boy locked up in one of the cells there. My boy persuaded Captain Cardboard to open up the door and bring him with us.”

The wolf has been pretty silent throughout the proceedings, but he’s the man of the moment and I guess he realises he’s going to have to pipe up sometime. “When I left... I didn’t get out of Sunnydale. Got caught on the final night of the last full moon. I wasn’t up to strength after the confrontation with Veruca and they blindsided me. I woke up in a cell, without any clothes. I’ve been like that ever since.” He sounds exhausted, like he’s used up his quota of words for a year.

The witch is staring at him, and then at me, like she wants to believe him, but he gets points off for the company he’s keeping. “But, but…you left nearly a month ago. You were going to Tibet. You’ve been here all the time?”

“He’s been in a cell all the time, witch. Not like he got a pass on a Friday night so he could come visiting.”

I can see my boy preparing himself to step in and stop a full scale war, but the wolf nips in before him. “They were waiting for the next full moon. They wanted to study the change. See it happen naturally, so they had a base line for trying to force it at other times of the month.” He’s got his arms clasped round his waist, keeping the coat shut, obviously desperate for the girls not see the damage underneath. The Slayer looks sick and I’m feeling a bit queasy myself. Fucking scientists! Fucking military!

The witch continues to ask questions and Oz answers them as best he can, but I can tell he’d rather almost anywhere else. Not back in the pen, obviously, but an interrogation isn’t what he needs right now.

Easing himself closer, Xander stand by his friend’s shoulder, trying to run interference, and I notice the Watcher slip out of the room for a moment. I’m just thinking about taking another nip of his Malt when he comes back, bearing a pile of clothing, and interrupts the proceedings. “Oz, I’m glad to see you, even under such circumstances. However I suspect you might feel more comfortable and a little less vulnerable if you were dressed. Spike’s duster may have been utilitarian in your moment of need, but perhaps something more comfortable would be appropriate for now.”

“Oi, my coat’s damn comfortable I’ll have you know, Watcher.” He looks back at me and there’s the beginning of grin hovering around his mouth. Bastard actually got me that time, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of taking it further.

Oz watches the interchange and smiles slightly. He recognises a diversion when he sees one, so he nods gratefully and takes the pile of clothing. “Thanks, Giles. I’ll go and change. Do you mind if I take a shower first?”

“Of course. I should have offered that first of all. Straight down the hallway, you can’t miss it. Towels and toiletries are in the cabinet by the bath.”

He nods again and starts to turn away, but then stops and turns back, like he’s forgotten something. “Don’t worry, Spike, I won’t get the coat wet.”

“See that you don’t, wolfie. Wouldn’t like to have to come looking for you next full moon to replace the leather.” Xander slaps me on the arm, like he’s telling me off for my threat, but I know that it’s all for show. He knows that I’m probably the only one in the room that really understands what the wolf’s going through right now. All the shock and worry and exclamations don’t even begin to touch on the feelings of being helpless, of being watched and poked and prodded, like a bug in a jar. Oz gives me another half smile and then he’s gone.

The girls watch him leave, uncharacteristically silent, but the moment he disappears from view they’re at it again, asking questions, making accusations, ‘til finally I’ve had enough and put two fingers in my mouth and whistle loudly. “Right. Keep it down. Enough to drive a bloke to drink, having you yammer like that in my ear. The wolf got caught. We didn’t know. We found him and got him out. End of story. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready and not before.”

The witch looks like she wants to say something, but the Watcher clears his throat and stares her down again and she subsides, grumbling under her breath. That’s the thing that really bugs me about her – she’s got a sense of entitlement the size of Texas and even though I’m sure she’s been sniffing around with that other little witch we’re not supposed to know about, she thinks she’s still got rights with her ex. Bet she thought he’d come back to see her, once he’d done his trip to Tibet.

I think back to when I first started to watch my boy, when he was creeping around with Red and she was holding both him and the wolf on a pair of short leads. Bet, just for a moment, she wondered if she could do the same thing again, just with a different mix. But that’s all speculation for now, and I turn my attention back to the Watcher, as he tries to take some control back. “Spike, I appreciate your concern for Oz and agree that he will need time and distance before he can talk about his ordeal. However, at the moment we need information on what the Initiative is up to in the short term. Did you find anything of use while you were there?”

“Could say that, Rupes.” I nod to Xan, and he fishes around in the pocket of his pants, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Xander found this while we were searching 314. Thought you might find it interesting.”

He takes the paper out of the boy’s hand and smoothes out the creases as he scans across the diagram and then looks up at us in shock. “How did you get this?”

“Like I said, Xander found it.” Should be explanation enough, but seems we’ve got to do the whole report, not just the edited highlights. I turn and nudge at Xan’s arm. “You going to give them the details, love?”

He looks surprised that I’m not taking the opportunity for a little more grandstanding, but this is his find and he deserves the credit, for once. “We were in 314, and I got bored listening to Spike and Riley going at it, so I started to prod about. There was a printer stuck half way through its run – like someone had been interrupted and hadn’t had the chance to put in more paper. So I did and that’s what came out.”

“And do we have any evidence that this was connected to Dr Walsh’s death?” Christ, I’ve got a deal of respect for Rupert, not that I’d tell him, but sometimes the Watcher genes blind him to what’s right in front of him.

“Well, I think being stabbed would pretty much define getting interrupted, Watcher. Soldier boy here told us that Dr Walsh was killed in 314, so I think that’s pretty conclusive myself.”

The Slayer’s been standing listening intently, but now she’s looking at Finn like he’s something she found on her shoe. “Riley, you said you didn’t know anything about 314. But you knew Dr Walsh was murdered there and you didn’t tell us? You let me send Xander down there, knowing that someone or something killed her, right in the place he was going? How could do that? Were you trying to get him killed?” I notice she doesn’t mention me – nice!

Iowa opens his mouth to defend himself, but before he can start I’m not surprised to see Xander step into the breach. It’s becoming a habit. “Buffy, it’s okay. We’re fine. We got in, we got out. We got the information and we rescued Oz. Result, so don’t stress, we’re fine.”

“But he lied, Xander.” Sometimes I forget just how young she is, still seeing things so black and white. She’s getting better, but this one is way too close to home. I look back over at my boy, as he tries to explain things to her, and for a moment I wonder if introducing him to the shades in between was a good thing or not. Too late now, so accept and move on.

“Yes he did. He wanted to prove that Maggie Walsh wasn’t the nut job we were making her out to be. He was trying to find a rational explanation for what was happening, so he lied. He wanted to go back in there so he could find the truth.”

“But...”

“We all lie, Buff. Sometimes it’s about trivia and sometimes it’s because we genuinely think it’s for the best. Riley found his truth, it just wasn’t the truth that he wanted and he’s got to live with that now.”

She looks frustrated, like she wants to hit something, or someone, but my boy is between her and the soldier and finally she sighs and turns back towards her Watcher. “So what’s this big truth that Riley found, Giles? What was Maggie up to and why was it worth risking trying to kill me? All I can see is a bit of paper, and last time I looked, paperwork couldn’t kill you.”

“Yes, well, you’ve obviously never participated in the Council’s annual audit, Buffy.” He moves across to the centre of the room and bends down, smoothing the paper out on the low coffee table. The girls gather round out of curiosity, while the rest of us hang back and give them some space. We know what’s on the paper; we don’t have to see it again.

“Okay, so it’s a drawing of a skeleton. A really weird looking skeleton, but I don’t see what the big deal is?”

“The big deal, Buffy, is that this isn’t just a drawing. It’s a blueprint. Dr Walsh was planning on creating a Chimera. God, it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“A Ky-what?”

“Chimera. A monster made up of the parts and characteristics of other species. It has a place in myth in many cultures, but I never imagined anyone would go so far in reality.” He’s gone a sickly shade of white as he’s talking and I can’t say I blame him.

“Okay, so Dr Walsh had a Frankenstein fixation. I still don’t see what the big deal is. She didn’t actually do it, ‘cause I’m sure I would have noticed a big mutant running around the place, when I was on patrol.” Definitely black and white!

“In case it’d slipped your mind, Slayer, Walsh was murdered, in 314, the room where she did her testing and drew up her blue prints. She got taken by surprise and no one knows who did it. And we’ve got some unexplained killings going on around town – human and demon. You do the maths.”

The Slayer is shaking her head in disbelief, but the red head has got that look of concentration on her face like she’s trying to work out a really difficult problem. She looks down at the paper and then back at me. “It can’t be true. The technology doesn’t exist to do something this big. Sure, there’s cloning and genetic experiments and that really gross thing, where they grafted an ear onto the back of a mouse, but the sheer scale of this, the science just isn’t there to back it up.”

She’s always so sure of herself when it comes to the science stuff, so convinced that she knows more than anyone else and she doesn’t look best pleased when Xander shakes his head. “Willow, Dr Walsh was a brilliant scientist and she had access to equipment most labs could only dream about. I’m guessing she had an unlimited budget courtesy of good old Uncle Sam. Something like this would be like the first moon walk, only with less of the ‘one giant step for mankind’ type of deal – although I never quite understood why walking on a bit of rock out in space was the big whoop for most folk. The Trekkie in me digs the concept, but that’s fiction.”

“Love!”

He sends me a fleeting grin and then looks back at his so called best friend, who’s glaring at him. “Sorry, I got distracted. I’m just saying, we have no idea what Maggie’s capabilities were. She was capturing demons and experimenting on them. Who knows how much further she went?”

He turns and looks back at Riley and the soldier’s almost squirming on the spot, but in the end he nods in agreement. “Xander’s right. Dr Walsh had complete control over the project. I know I was concentrating on the military side of the operation, but I do know that if I said I needed something – manpower, weaponry, resources - I got them, no questions asked. I’m sure it was no different with her research. If she thought she had a way to progress her R&D, she wouldn’t have had to beg for money or equipment. She would just have said she needed something and it would have been there.” He looks like he’s sick to his stomach, having to dance on his mentor’s grave instead of giving the eulogy, but I’ve got to give him points for being honest.

“So, what do we do now, Giles?”

The Slayer’s looking at him like he’s bound to have the answers. That’s the problem with being the father figure - you’re supposed to be infallible, and I watch him sweat for a moment or two before I take pity on him. “The first step is to find this thing and see what it’s got to say for itself.”

“You want to talk to it?” The Slayer and the witch are looking at me, like I’ve lost my marbles, and even Xander’s looking dubious.

“Well, yeah! Don’t know if there’s only one of them, do we? Start thinking with your head and not with your stake, Slayer. Of course we kill it, eventually, but I want to know a bit more about what was going on in Maggie’s twisted little brain and this thing might just help.

“Okay, so how are going to do that? We can’t exactly put out a general invitation for tea and cakes to all newly arrived monsters.” She’s pulled a stake out of a pocket in her jeans and I’m not sure if it’s for me or just giving her a bit of comfort against the things she can’t fight.

“Oh sarcasm, you’re getting better, Slayer. _We_ don’t do anything. I’ll find it and see what the lie of the land is. Then we can plan from there.”

I knew that would get a reaction and my boy is right in my face shaking his head. “Oh no, you don’t, blondie. I’m not letting you go alone against someone’s overgrown science project. You have no idea how to find it in the first place. And if you did, what’s to say it wouldn’t give you the same treatment as Maggie Walsh? You’ve been seen with me and with the rest of us, by half the demons on the Hellmouth. We’re visible. Why would it talk to you – that’s if it can talk and not just do the whole, ‘exterminate, exterminate’ deal?”

Got to love him, even when he’s in the middle of an argument he can’t resist a good sci-fi reference. “Well first of all, like the Slayer says, he’s going to be pretty easy to spot, now that he’s out and about. One thing to keep a low profile when you’re in a secret lab. Not so easy when you’re an eight foot monster, if that drawing’s to scale. And why wouldn’t he talk to me, I’m a nice bloke? I’ve been around, know what’s moving and shaking around here. Bet I could be right useful, if I put my mind to it!”

“That’s all hunky dory, but why wouldn’t he just kill you on sight? How are going to get close enough to make a connection?”

“Oh, that’s easy, pet. I’m going to sell you lot down the Swannee and help him take over the Hellmouth.”


	20. Realisations 19: Dancing with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the hell is Spike up to?

_  
**Realisations 19: Dancing with the Devil**   
_   


  
I’m striding into Willie’s when he catches up with me and I flick my fag backwards and I know he has to jump to avoid it by the trip in the sound of his footsteps. “Spike. Spike what’s the matter? Why didn’t you wait for me?” I turn round impatiently and he’s standing there, all big puppy eyes, screaming to be hurt and as his eyes slide past me, I can tell the instant he realises that he might not be in Kansas any more.

“Got a low boredom threshold, haven’t I? Man of action, that’s me and quite frankly your action is getting a little frayed around the edges.” I pull out another cigarette and take my time lighting it while he gapes like a goldfish.

“So, are you telling me you’re leaving?”

“Did you really think I’d stay with a little geek like you? You have got to be living in one of those fantasy novels you’re always drivelling on about.”

For a moment he looks like I’ve hit him in the gut, but he recovers and steps a bit closer, looking me right in the eye. Quite the little cock pheasant. “You didn’t think I was that much of a geek last night, and I seem to remember you liked some of the fantasies we were talking about.”

I inhale for a long moment, hold it and then let it go – right into his face. “Yeah well, pet, let’s just say, if that was your idea of a fantasy, you’ve got a lot to learn. I’ve seen more dirt on a snotty hankie than you could come up with and to be honest, I really don’t have the time to teach you. Never was into special ed.”

That’s it, fighting cock to road kill in 10 seconds flat. “But you said, you said, that you wanted me. You said…”

“Bloody hell! It’s not a fucking soap opera. Evil here, wanker! Wanted that hot little arse of yours. Don’t think I’ve ever had anyone quite so willing to spread for me, but you know how it is – been there, done that, time to move on.”

The bottom lip is starting to go, but he’s trying so hard to hold it together. “But…”

“Don’t take it to heart. Sure there’s a pile of folk on the Hellmouth just waiting to take you on, now that I’ve broken you in. Got the makings of a nice little pet, once you’re fully trained, but I can’t say I’m bothered. Got things to do, people to kill, don’t need a white hat whining in my ear every time I eat something.”

“You bastard.” The sentiment is right, but the whisper is so quiet that’s it sounds more like a revelation than a curse and I turn the screw again.

“I think you’re looking at the wrong bloke here. I know who my Sire was. Not so sure about you. Take a look in the mirror. If you think you really came from that git you call a Dad, you’re even more stupid than I thought and that was pretty damn stupid – you believed everything I told you. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you at my feet. I wanted you on your knees and in my bed and lying to your friends. And all I had to do was yank a string and Bob's your uncle. You’re a slut, pet. I wanted a challenge, a bit of fun, but you were too fucking easy in the end. Give you a bit of attention, show you a few moves and you had that white hat grinding in the dust quicker than you could drop your drawers.” He’s got his arms wrapped round his waist and I can’t quite decide if he’s struggling to hold himself together or making sure he doesn’t start a fight in the middle of a demon bar. Maybe a bit of both. “Now I’m bored. More than bored, I’m irritated. Always expecting stuff – expecting me to make nice with the Slayer. Bloody unnatural.”

“But you came to the meetings – you were almost civil to Giles.”

“It’s called intelligence gathering, moron. Get in with the opposition and get under their skin. Make them trust you and learn their weaknesses. Worked a treat and I have to give you kudos for being such a help on that. Don’t think it would have been so easy, if you hadn’t done the whole indignant boyfriend bit. Had a lot of fun seeing you tear into your little chickies, defending my honour.” And the screw goes up another notch.

“And now…?”

“Time to move on. Got some irons in the fire. Got a man to see about a dog. Got some business to attend to.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much. Haven’t got time to baby sit. Tired of changing your nappies. Fed up with pretending. So to quote your lovely Slayer – ‘get over it’. I’m bored now.”

“But you said you’d help. We know Faith has woken from her coma. We don’t know what she’s going to do and you said you’d help.” Nice touch that, trying to tempt me with a Slayer.

“Again with the gullible. I’m a vampire, stupid. She’s a Slayer. Only thing I’m going to help with, is putting her in an early grave. But I’ll choose my battleground, I won’t be told. Right now, it’ll be fun to sit back and watch one bitch trying to take out the other. Could probably sell tickets for that one.”

I look him up and down, absorbing all that pain and suffering and then turn on my heel and head for the bar where Willie’s polishing a glass and pretending not to watch. “Whisky, and none of your crap. Want the decent stuff.” He rushes to comply and I stand for a moment feeling the buzz as the liquid slides down my throat. I know I’m being watched – got every pair of eyes in the place glued to my back, like they’re watching a train wreck, and I count to ten in my head before turning back to the room, and he’s still there.

“You still here? Can’t take a bloody telling, can you? Get lost. Go home. Wipe your snot on the Slayer’s coat tails and let the witch put a collar and lead back on you. It’s about all you’re fit for.”

He stares at me for a moment, tears now streaming down his face and then he’s gone, running out the door like rain on a window pane, shattering apart one droplet at a time.

I motion for a refill and Willie can’t move fast enough to do the necessary. “Right then, what’s a vamp got to do to get a bit of action around here. I’ve been away, but now I’m back and I’ve been hearing some very interesting rumours. So who can tell me about the new player in town?”

All eyes slide away from me, concentrating on their cards and their drinks and the knotholes in the tables. I sip at my whisky and eye up a Marmax who’s sitting in the corner, picking at his finger nails and studiously checking out the gunk that he’s unearthing. The minute I mentioned a new player in town I saw him twitch and that’s as good as shouting in this place. I saunter over and grab a chair, twisting it round to sit astride. “Right then, seems like you might just know what I’m on about. Everyone knows I’m interested in new blood in town – never know when you might need an ally in a tight spot. So tell me what you know, and I might consider not ripping your fingernails out one by one before I start on your toenails. Although I’m a bit bored right now, so I might just do it anyway. I’m pretty sure those scales would hurt like a bitch if you took a pair of pliers to them.” He gulps, looking around for assistance, but this is Willie’s, there’s no one here going to interfere.

“Hmmm, I did hear a whisper that someone new had set up camp in the caves near Breaker’s Woods. I’m not seen him, myself, but I’ve heard he’s not to be messed with.”

I reach over and pat him on what passes for his cheek and he flinches. “Cheers mate, see how easy life can be when you co-operate.” Getting up from the chair, I pick up his beer glass and chug the contents in one quick move, before making for the exit. I’ve got everyone’s attention, which is just how I like it and I stop and look slowly round the room as I reach the door. “Right then, I’ll see you pile of dung beetles later. Got a meeting with a man about a spot of power sharing. If you’re very good boys and girls, I might even let you have a seat at the table once I’m done.”

****************************

“Well, well, well, so you’re the bloke I’ve been hearing all the press about. Impressive, that’s the word that springs to mind. You’ve really got that Terminator look working for you. The whole body mod thing can be done really badly, but I think you’ve pretty much nailed it.” Christ, what an ugly bastard, but I’m not going to tell him that to his face. Especially when he’s looking at me like some bug he wants to stamp on.

“What do you want, vampire? I do not know this Terminator your talk about, but I will refer the reference to mother for clarification.” Ugly, and talks like a ponce.

“Ah well, that might be a bit of a problem, if you’re talking about old Maggie as your mum. She had a bit of an accident with something sharp and pointy and I think you might know something about that.” He’s got an expression on his face that I can’t read and I get the feeling that he knows quite a bit that I don’t, but it’s too damn late to stop now, so I plough on. “Don’t get me wrong. Got nothing against a bloke killing his mum. Did it myself, back in the day. Better than sleeping with her, that’s for sure – I always did think that Oedipus bloke was well screwed in the head, but that the bloody Greeks for you.

“Are these random references meant to have any coherent meaning, or have you simply been around humans too long? I have heard of your ‘relationships’ with the Slayer and her helpers.” Interesting, the git’s got more intel than I anticipated.

“Well I wouldn’t go as far as saying we had a relationship. More like reconnaissance. Got them eating out of my hand, so I could find out what they were up to. Got a nice bit of shagging in, while I was at it, but that’s another story.”

“Your conquests do not interest me. I am above such things. My pleasure is in power, in the act of violence, in destruction.”

Why am I not surprised. Time for a little bonding. “Well, now you’re talking my language. I’m all about the violence and destruction. Or at least I would be if I didn’t have this damn leash in my head. Don’t suppose you could help me with that now?”

“And what would you give me in return for such a favour?”

“That’s easy; I’d give you the Slayer. Get her out of the way and the power and chaos thing you’ve got going would go a lot easier.”

“You are a snake, vampire. You would devour your own kind if you thought it would gain you what you want. I do not make deals with reptiles.” That’s kind of rich, considering the whole green skin look he’s sporting but it’s probably not the time to bring that up.

“Yeah, well this snake has been defanged and damned inconvenient it is as well. Come on, what have you got to lose. I deliver the Slayer to you, all tied up with a pretty bow and you help a mate out in return. Simple.”

He’s been moving around the cave, pressing this button and that as I’ve been talking. Like I’m not worth his time and attention; bloody arrogant git. But now he stops and looks at me, like he’s finally seeing me for the first time and it’s making my skin crawl. “And how do you intend to deliver me this present? I have heard that you have cut your ties with contacts in the Slayers group.”

“Wow, word travels quickly around here.”

“Technology and surveillance are merely tools, but they serve their purpose.” He presses a button on the console and a video of the scene at Willie’s starts to run. The sound is on low, but it’s pretty clear what’s happening. “The boy is weak, but it is obvious that he had affection for you. Perhaps I should take him as a guarantee of your good behaviour and compliance, if I was to consider entering into a business arrangement.”

Shit, shit, shit!

“Or perhaps I should direct The Initiative in his direction. I’m sure they would be fascinated to study a human who’s been involved with a demon.”

Even more shit. “Not going to work, mate. Like I told him, he was a distraction. A sweet fuck to pass the time. Not like he’s got any hold over me. So I’ve got a better idea. The Slayer’s going to be well pissed off when she finds out I was yanking her chain and upsetting all her little chickies. I put the word out, where I’ll be at a certain time, and you can bet your sweet experimental arse that she’ll come looking. Bait the hook and she’s bound to take a bite. So, what do you think?”

He’s still staring at me and it’s like I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. “I don’t trust you, but your idea does have merit. My plans are not quite ready to come to fruition. Getting the Slayer in position is the final key to their success.” Now we’re getting to it.

“And what might those plans be, just out of interest? Like to know what I'm investing in, if you know what I mean.”

“I would have thought that was obvious to someone with your carnal instincts. I wish to have family, to procreate, but that is not possible naturally. So I will create in my own image. The Initiative will be a new Garden of Eden and I will multiply.” Okay, Houston, we really do have a problem.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that. Watch out for that apple – always knew fruit was bad for you.”

“Do not mock me, vampire. I will tolerate you so long as you are useful and I will release your hate and your anger when you have done as you promised. But I will not tolerate failure”

“Okay, check, zero tolerance on failure. Got you. So just to clarify – I put the Slayer where you want her and that’s a win in your book, yeah?”

“Correct, there will be rich rewards for those who are loyal. Obedience is the key.”

“Right then. One Slayer for delivery it is, then it’s chips away. I’ll leave you to it, to perfect your master plan, and I’ll go and start doing the groundwork. I’ll be back for the detail on the when and the where once I’ve scattered the breadcrumbs. Pleasure doing business with you, big guy. I like a bloke with his head screwed on the right way.” The fact that it really could be screwed on is neither here nor there, it’s difficult to tell with all the demon flesh and Tin Man impression he’s got going, but his mouth twists in a parody of a smile, so I guess he seems to like the platitude, and that works for me. “See you later. Have fun with the world domination stuff. I’ll be back in a jiff, and then I’ve got your back.”

He’s already turned back to the console, ignoring me and that suits me just fine. I’m out of here faster than a ferret up a drainpipe and considering some ferrets I’ve come across over the years, that’s pretty damn fast.

**************

Two hours I’ve been dodging around this bloody shit hole, in case I was followed. Can’t trust the smurf not to have surveillance rigged up all over the place. Finally I’m in sight of the Watcher’s place and I’ve got to trust that his wards are enough to stop anything that git might have going. I bet he’s got the Slayer’s room covered, but old Rupert’s been pretty low profile recently, so this snake is going to take a punt that he can slide in under the radar.

Just like before, there’s a shuffling at the door as I’m checked out through the spy hole and then the door opens. Rupert’s right there and when I look past him, I can see my boy curled up on the couch. There’s no sign of the others, so I’m assuming they’re out looking for the psycho Slayer, but I don’t really care at the moment. My boy is trembling and as I move towards him I’m not sure if it’s distress or relief.

I’m half way there when there’s a hand on my arm and I force myself not to try to rip it off and risk being fried by the bloody chip. “Spike, what happened? Did you make contact? Did you manage to find out anything?”

“Yes, yes, and let a bloke get his breath back, Watcher.” I know he wants to shake me to get the information, but my eyes are fixed on one brown eyed boy, hunched up in as small a ball as he can make, shooting me looks though his lashes, like he’s not sure what to do. Bugger, always knew I took the method acting a bit too far.

I glance at the Watcher and as he opens his mouth to start the interrogation again I shake my head once and head further into the room. He looks exasperated for a moment, but then nods and withdraws, giving me the space I need. “Hey, love, I’m back.”

“That’s good, I guess. Did it go okay? Tell me it went okay? Well obviously it went okay, ‘cause you’re back, in one piece. Well as far as I can see, anyway. But was it worth it? Did you get what we needed?” He’s such a good little soldier – the needs of the many and all that crap – checking that the mission was accomplished. It’s the cost that worries me.

“Sure, pet. Bait nicely hooked, evil anonymous is in play and on the line. We just need a couple more turns of the screw and we’re set.”

“That’s a shit load of mixed metaphors there.” He’s trying for light hearted, but I can see the hurt radiating through every bone in his body and before I can think, I’m on my knees.

“I'm sorry, pet. So sorry. I had to make it look realistic. Had to make the bastards buy it, so the stuff would get back. You know I didn’t mean a word. Wouldn’t ever hurt you. Apart from I did. But it was an act. We discussed it. We played our parts. Love you, pet. You know that. You do know that?”

“Sure, I know that.” The words come easily, but I’m wondering if he’s only telling me what I want to hear. If I’ve fucked this up trying to sort out another Hellmouth mess, then I’ll bloody well kidnap him and keep him ‘til he believes me. I lose myself for a moment in a dozen different plans, but there’s a hand stroking down the side of my face and I come back to reality and focus back on the only thing that matters. “I know you love me. And I love you. Never thought I’d be in love with a vampire, what with the whole ‘Faster, Pussycat. Kill! Kill!’ attitude I had going on before, but that’s the weirdness that is my life. But all this, it got me thinking about how all this started - buying me a drink at the Bronze and winding me up about the break up with Cordy. Then telling me about Dru and what happened down in South America. And then you found me on the bench in the park after Faith. Did I ever stand a chance? What you said at Willie’s – was that your plan? Reel me in and treat me like play dough – see what you could make and mould and discard? Is that how it started out?”

Shit, he doesn’t ask the easy questions, but he’s got good at reading the subtext and all I’ve got left is the truth. “No flies on you, love. Told you, you made me curious and you did. You had something, I didn’t know what, but it was something. I felt your fear and your pain and your loneliness and it stirred something in me and I wanted to bathe in it. But you got under my skin. You crept up on me when I wasn’t looking – talking about crab apples and your plans for the future and being willing to find your own music, your own rhythm, and waving that damn thesaurus about like it was one of Rupert’s precious tomes. I fell in love, pet. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t plan it. But it happened and I’d walk in the sun, now, before I let anything hurt you. I’m sorry, love. I had to make it seem real, and the most realistic way to lie is to almost tell the truth.”

There’s the noise of a throat being cleared and as I turn around the Watcher holds out a cut crystal glass with a good dose of the stuff from the back of his cabinet. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. That last conversation wasn’t for him, but he obviously heard and maybe it’s right that he should. I look from father figure to child and for a moment I feel like I’m William again, asking for permission to pay my addresses, but I’m not William now and we’re long past the courting stage.

“Got a problem, Watcher. This thing is more powerful than we ever thought. He’s got a plan to create an army in his own image. He wants the Slayer and I’ve promised to give her to him. I’m trading her for getting the chip out, not that I believe for one minute the bastard will actually do it. But he’s going to carry out his plan and he had the nerve to threaten my boy here, and that’s not going to happen. The Hellmouth is a danger zone at the best of times, but with the soldier boys and now this bastard in on the action it’s become a bloody disaster area. I’ll fight ‘til my brain fries before I’ll let the boy get hurt, and I’ll give up your bloody Slayer for real, if I have to. I will protect what’s mine, but I need the chip out, Rupert. I need to find a way.”

There’s a hand grasping at my wrist and I look down at a pair of brown eyes looking at me in confusion. “But we know it can’t be done, Spike. It’s military; Giles can’t just magic it out. It’s an alien thing in your head and magic is natural, it can’t grab hold of something that it can’t understand.” I know he believes what he’s saying but I’ve been around too damn long to accept that there’s no solution.

I look back at the Watcher and he’s got his nose buried in his whisky glass, and for a moment it’s like he’s trying to find all the answers of the universe in the aromas of chocolate and spice, and then he sighs and looks back at us. “That’s not quite true, Xander. You’re right, I can’t do anything and my magic won’t touch the chip. But there are other types of magic which might help. Types which I’ve shied away from. Quite frankly I’ve not been displeased that Spike can’t hurt humans. That he can’t hurt you. But the situation has deteriorated and I think desperate times call for desperate action.

“So what you saying, Rupert?”

“I’m saying I know how to neutralise your chip.”


	21. Realisations 20: Walking the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Giles find a solution to Spike’s chip?

_  
**Realisations 20: Walking the Line**   
_   


I watch Giles as he moves over to the old fashioned phone hiding under a pile of hand written papers, brushing them aside. For some reason I’m mesmerised by the sight of strong fingers dialling a number, obviously called from memory, and I find that I’m holding my breath as each number dials and the wheel spins back to its resting place. There’s something hypnotic about the turn of the wheel and whir of the mechanism as it goes through its cycle and it’s doing strange things to my brain. Giles turns to face the wall as the last spin settles back and all I can hear is a low murmur as he talks, briefly, to someone at the other end. Then it’s done, conversation over, and it somehow seems fitting that the path to eliminating a piece of futuristic technology lies in a battered piece of bakelite.

He turns back towards us, but his expression is grim. “It’s done. Now we wait.”

“Umm, Giles. What are we waiting for? Or should I say, who are we waiting for, ‘cause you’re not looking big with the happy right now?”

“Think the Watcher’s got a right not to be happy, pet. Don’t think I would be in his shoes. Have to say, Rupert, I appreciate you doing this. I’m guessing the last thing you wanted to do was make that phone call, so I owe you for this.”

“Don’t think I’ll forget it, Spike. No, I didn’t want to go down this road, but I want Xander safe and I want the Hellmouth free of the Initiative and its creations, so I’ll do whatever is necessary to achieve that. I do expect you to have some restraint when the chip is out, but I know you have someone with more influence than me, to keep you on the relative straight and narrow.”

Okay, it seems like I’m the only one in the room that doesn’t know what’s going on and that’s getting kind of old. “Umm, Giles, who did you call?”

He sighs and rubs the crease at the top of his nose before replying. It’s such a familiar gesture and I take strange comfort from the normality in the midst of all the tension. “I called Ethan Rayne, Xander. I told you my magic couldn’t help with the chip, but Ethan plays with chaos magic and it will probably do the trick.”

Okay, now we’ve officially entered a parallel universe. “You called Ethan? I mean, whoa… you called Ethan?”

“Beginning to sound like a broken record, love.”

“Sorry, it’s just…so not expecting that one.” Slumping down on the arm of a nearby chair, I let the images of previous encounters run through my head, remembering Giles anger and Ethan’s mockery. No wonder Giles looked grim when he came off the phone.

Spike ambles over to where I’m sitting and for a moment I relax as he runs his fingers through my hair, not really caring that Giles is standing, watching. Then the fingers stop and I look up. “How did you know? I mean, it obviously wasn’t a surprise to you.”

“Educated guess, pet. Watcher already said his magic wouldn’t work. Can’t exactly go back into the Initiative and ask them nicely. Can’t go to a regular hospital, what with the whole undead thing. Not many options left, so I put two and two together. Besides, I knew he was in town. Old Rupert, here, had a little drink with our friend the other day, didn’t you Rupes?”

Giles looks surprised for a moment and then nods his head ruefully. “Yes, well, I should have guessed it would be difficult to keep anything quiet in Sunnydale. Ethan came to see me a few days ago. He wanted to chat. I think he had some idea that with Buffy away at University, I would be at a loose end and feeling sorry for myself – ripe pickings for any piece of devilment he could devise. Unfortunately for him, I was not at the low ebb he expected and managed to put a damper on his plans.”

“What was he going to do?”

“He had some ludicrous notion about turning me into a demon just to watch the chaos it would cause. We were drinking and I think he forgot that just because I wear glasses, doesn’t mean I don’t recognise a sleight of hand when I see one. You can gather that, as I am not demonic, his plan did not come to fruition.”

“And you’re still going to trust him to get rid of Spike’s chip?”

“I never trust Ethan, Xander. But that doesn’t mean he’s not good at what he does. I respect his abilities, just not the way he normally chooses to channel them.”

“So, what now, Giles? What do we do?” I’m not really expecting an answer, but somehow I have to go through the motions, to prove to myself that this is really happening, that’s it’s not a dream.

“We wait, Xander. Hopefully not for long, but some things can’t be rushed. Sometimes we just have to be patient.”

“Not a virtue you used to be noted for, eh Ripper? But then your lack of virtue was one of the things that made you so much fun.”

I turn quickly and know that Spike and Giles have done the same. We’ve been so concentrated in our talk that we didn’t hear the door open and I have no idea how long he’s been standing there. He seems to read my mind because he just grins and walks further into the room, his movements slick and fluid, and I feel my skin crawl. I glance across the room and Giles is looking resigned and slightly amused. Spike calmly takes out his cigarette packet before lighting up and inhaling and Giles doesn’t try to stop him. Now I know we’re officially in bizarro land.

“Sorry for disturbing you.” He doesn’t look sorry at all. “My lock picking skills have been getting a bit rusty recently, so I thought I’d brush up a bit. Never know when they might come in handy. Oh, and Rupert, you might want to look at reinforcing those wards, they’re adequate against most common or garden problems, but we all know the Hellmouth is anything but common.”

That’s it, I officially don’t like this guy, not that I did before, but this just confirms it. “Giles. I don’t want to be repeato boy here, but is this really a good idea? I mean, I want Spike to get the chip out, but if this is an option, there have to be other options – ones we’ve just not thought about yet. Every time we’ve encountered this creep something bad has gone down, so you two aren’t exactly best buds.”

I know I’m going over old ground, but the idea of this guy playing around with magic near Spike has put me into major panic mode and it’s obvious from the look on his face that he knows that damn fine. “Oh, I think you’d be surprised what good buddies Rupert and I can be. Not in the crass American road trip sense of the phrase, of course. More in the sense of understanding exactly how each other ticks, if you get my drift.”

“Ethan, that’s enough, stop baiting the boy. We’ve had enough drama for one day.”

“Whatever you say, Rupert. Your wish is my command.” He executes an old fashioned bow, finishing with a flourish of his hand, but Giles doesn’t look impressed.

“There won’t be any wishing around here, Ethan. ‘Wanting’ yes, but no ‘wishing’.”

“You spoil all my fun, don’t you? But I can do ‘wanting’. ‘Wanting’ can be all sorts of interesting.” He licks his lips and I can see Spike grinning, out of the corner of my eye, as I watch Giles start to blush. Oh god, I think I’ll need to take some bleach to my brain before we’re finished.

“So Rupert, lets get down to business. What do you ‘want’?”

“Spike has a small problem which needs to be taken care of and I believe that you have the necessary skills for the job. Believe me, if there was any other way, you wouldn’t be here.”

“You wound me Rupert, really you do. However, I have heard of William’s little affliction.” He turns and looks at Spike, eyeing him from top to toe like he’s a piece of candy, and I feel like I want to step between them and tell him to get away from my vampire, but Spike has a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently and I stay where I am, contenting myself with a glare. “Must be difficult for you, not being about to fight back, not being able to feed like a real predator. Not being able to protect what’s yours.” That’s it, I’m expecting fireworks now, but Spike just stares back at him, like he’s daring him to go on, and eventually Ethan smiles that shark smile and settles himself into one of Giles’ chairs. “I can see why you want to protect him, William. Quite the catch, isn’t he? I’ve still got very fond memories of him all dressed up in his army gear at Halloween – such the little manly man with his muscles and his tattoo, and I can’t forget the big gun - it’s an image that’s given me quite a few sweet dreams over the last couple of years.”

That’s it! I can’t listen to this any longer, and I think it’s better that I jump in before Spike loses his cool and tries to rip his head off. “That’s enough, Ethan. Stop with the posturing already. I really don’t want you here, you give me the creeps, but Giles thinks you’re our only option. I suppose it just demonstrates how desperate we are, if we’re scraping the bottom of the barrel and dealing with people like you.”

“Nicely said, pet, but I don’t think there’s any point in antagonising the nice chaos mage until after he’s done the mojo. Then, if you like, I’ll happily eat him for you.” He’s looking down on Ethan as he sprawls in the chair, but there’s no heat in Spike’s voice, just pragmatism and a little bit of wariness, and the creep just smiles back up at him.

“Oh William, I do enjoy you so much. You’re so much more fun than your GrandSire.”

Spike puffs on his cigarette for a moment and then grins back. “Not exactly hard, mate. The poof’s got a stick so far up his arse, I’m surprised he doesn’t choke on it. Probably why his forehead’s that shape.”

“Happy families, it’s so very touching.” Spike just snorts and Ethan turns back towards Giles with a flourish. “So Rupert, you want me to deactivate the chip, I assume? And what will I get in return for this trifling service?”

Giles has his hands in his pockets, but I’m betting they’re clenched under the layer of corduroy. “My undying gratitude, a year’s subscription to Reader's Digest and the opportunity to get out of Sunnydale in one piece without either the Initiative, or this new threat, getting wind of you.”

“Tempting, very tempting, but I’d rather have National Geographic – the descriptions of the mating rituals are so intriguing, don’t you think? As for your gratitude, well that’s certainly an interesting plus point. I always liked you grateful, Rupert.” It’s amazing how he can put so much spin on such an innocuous word.

“Ethan, you’ve terrorised this town with the Halloween incident and the chocolate bars, not to mention planning to turn me into a Fyarl, which was just bloody petty. I think you owe me, don’t you?”

“Umm, you may be right. But I think the magnitude of this request tips the scales in the other direction. I’ll do it, and I’ll enjoy holding your marker.”

“Giles, this is crazy. I know I keep saying it and you keep knocking me back, but there has to be another way, surely?” I know what his answer is going to be, but I feel like if I keep insisting there’s another solution, one might just present itself, like one of those really annoying whodunit’s on cable in the middle of the night where the answer to the problem occurs to the hero just before it goes to the final commercial break. But I know I’m kidding myself and I’m not surprised when Giles just looks exasperated.

“How many times do I have to say it, Xander? I thought we’d ruled out knocking on the door of the Initiative and asking very nicely for the soldiers to take out the chip? But if you think it’s a viable alternative, we can certainly give it a try.”

“Hey, no need for sarcasm, Watcher. Boy’s just trying to watch out for you.”

“I’m sorry, Xander, you’re right. But I repeat, there is no other way, and Ethan and I have known each other a long time. I know he will disable the chip. It will appeal to his sense of humour to know that Spike can go back to causing chaos again. Janus doesn’t like his instruments to be blunted, so releasing Spike’s demon from its bonds will be right up his street.”

I really hate the way the bastard is sitting smirking at Giles. He’s so damn smug. “Even after all this time, Rupert, you understand me so well. It’s touching really. And you know that any marker I hold on completion, will not be more than you’re willing to pay.”

I really, really want to slap this guy, but Giles just rolls his eyes. “You’re generosity overwhelms me, Ethan. Now can we get down to business before the girls return? I don’t think Buffy would take very kindly to your presence, or to what we’re about to do.”

“Yes, well, your Slayer always was more about the muscle than the mind, Rupert. Not that that’s a criticism in any way. Such is the nature of Slayers; she is merely following her heritage.”

“Well her heritage will probably compel her to beat your head against the wall, if she finds you here, so if we could stop playing games it might be better for all of us.”

“But you play such wonderful games…” Giles is leaning over him, and I haven’t seen that look since the last time I spilled soda over one of his priceless Codex’s. Looks like Ethan knows that expression as well. “Oh very well, and here we were having such fun.”

Spike stubs out his cigarette in the bottom of one of Giles crystal tumblers and I grin when I hear the inevitable tut. “I’ll have even more fun when I get this bit of metal out of my head. So, where do you want me?”

The creep eases himself out of the chair and stretches like a cat before answering. “In the middle of the pentagram I’m going to draw. It really is a very pedestrian spell. Are you sure you don’t want me to do something more exciting?”

“Ethan!” Giles now looks as if he’s constipated and the chaos mage is grinning at him. “The candles and the chalk are on the bottom shelf of the dresser. You should find everything you need in there.” He digs around in his pocket and hands over a small key, receiving another grin before Ethan wanders across the room to get what he needs. While he’s occupied, Giles turns back to us and smiles reassuringly. “The spell doesn’t require any particular special ingredients. It is the appeal to Janus to redress the alignment of forces and release Spike to follow his nature which should trigger the magic.”

“Giles, why couldn’t you do the spell if it’s so simple? From what I gathered from the whole Eyghon deal, you used to practice this type of mojo.”

A strange mix of pride and shame seems to flicker across his face, like he’s pleased that I’ve thought to ask the question, but ashamed that he’s got to answer it. “Perhaps once upon a time I could have, Xander. Believe me, I would rather have attempted it myself than call on Ethan, if I thought it would work. But I burned my boats with Janus a long time ago when I turned my back on chaos and tried to repair the damage I’d done. I’m afraid he wouldn’t listen to me now.”

“But he’ll listen to Ethan, even though he’s basically doing you a favour? Isn’t that a bit hypocritical? Although I probably shouldn’t call a god hypocritical, what with the whole smiting deal, and I can’t believe I just used ‘smite’ in a sentence. Living on the Hellmouth does weird things to your vocabulary.”

Giles laughs softly and it’s nice to see the tension around his eyes lighten slightly. “I think you’re safe enough, Xander. I suspect it will appeal to Janus to have me in Ethan’s debt. I stand for the moral high ground, but I’m begging for indulgences. Janus may have two faces, but it’s I who am the hypocrite.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I watch Ethan as he rolls back the rug and draws the chalk lines on the floor, marking each point with a fine, red candle, and scattering what smells like dried mint leaves in the valley’s between each candle. I look at Giles questioningly. “Mint has properties which break spells and jinxes. That’s the nearest we can come to a supernatural equivalent to the chip.”

“Oh, okay. Makes sense I guess. I turn my attention back to the circle and the final sprinklings of the herbs before Ethan looks up.

“William, please step into the centre of the circle. You may remain standing, or sit if you wish; it makes no odds to the spell.”

“Right the, lets get this over with. Was getting bored with all the jawing that’s been going on. Oh and Ethan, when this is over, remember the name is Spike!” He turns to me and gives me a swift, soft kiss and then moves away before I can return it. “Back in a jiff, love. It’ll be just like going to the dentist, only without the 3 year old magazines in the waiting room.” I know he’s trying to stop me worrying, so I smile, letting the humour distract me as he steps into the centre of the circle. “I’ll stand for this. Don’t want to crease the coat. And make sure those candles aren’t going to fall over. I want the chip fried, not flambéd.”

“Stay still and everything will be fine. Have a little faith, William.” Spike snorts and I’m right there with him, but then Ethan opens a small canvas bag I hadn’t noticed before and takes out a small stone sculpture of a man with two faces and sets it on the floor in front of Spike. Suddenly the room feels very cold. He kneels before the statue and presses his palms together, wincing as he pulls them apart and the blood drips onto the floor in front of the statue, from wounds that weren’t there before. “The world that denies thee, thou inhabit.” He smears blood from his left hand over his right eyelid. “The peace that ignores thee…thou corrupt,” he intones, as he smears blood from his right hand over his right eye lid and finally draws a cross on his forehead. “Chaos, I remain, as ever, your faithful, degenerate son.” He looks like some deranged Charles Manson wanabee kneeling before Spike and I don’t realise I’m gripping Giles arm ‘til he hisses under the pressure, and I let go and settle for digging my fingers into my palm.

 _“Janus, solvo is phasmatis. Sino is sumo tergum nox noctis quod fio vestri vernula. Janus, nos queso vos.”_

If anything the temperature plummets further and Ethan is breathing heavily, his blood dripping sluggishly onto the top of the statue as he leans forward.

 _“Janus, nos queso vos.”_

Spike clutches at his head as the candles flicker and flare and then he lets out an almighty scream and slumps to his knees in the centre of the circle. I start to move towards him, when there’s a crash behind me as the door smashes against the wall and swings back, hanging precariously from one hinge. Buffy and Willow barrel into the room breathing hard, with Riley at their heels, and I feel like I’m outside my body, looking down on the scene, like I’m watching some surreal mime or puppet theatre. Spike on his knees, rocking back and forth with his hands on his head. Ethan facing him, his hands clutched, vice-like, to the statue of his god. Giles, glasses in hand, his expression half way between guilty and defiant. Buffy has her hands clenched like she’s ready for battle and Willow is at her back, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set as she takes in the scene. Riley is there, as always, in the background, ramrod straight, his hand reaching for a weapon that isn’t there. I can’t see myself, but I don’t have to, I know where my focus is.

The silence hangs there for a moment and then like the crack of a whip it’s shattered and the world starts to move again. “What the hell is going on here?”

Oh shit, that’s the $64,000 questions I was hoping to avoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **A/N**  
>  Information on the magical properties attributed to mint is from  
> <http://herb-magic.com/index.html>
> 
> Ethan’s spell said “Janus, free this spirit. Allow it take back the night and become your servant. Janus we beseech you.” The translation is from this website [http://www.translation-guide.com/free_online_translators.php?from=English&to=Latin](http://www.translation-guide.com/free_online_translators.php?from=English&to=Latin)
> 
> Finally, Ethan’s ritual to call Janus, respectfully nicked from S2 Halloween written by Carl Ellsworth -courtesy of <http://www.buffy-vs-angel.com/guide.shtml>


	22. Realisations 21: Truth and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy wants some answers and Willow makes some assumptions

_  
**Realisations 21: Truth and Consequence**   
_   


“Buffy! Wills! How are you doing? Feels like we haven’t caught up in ages, so we really must do that sometime, but not right now. Spike and I have got to run. Got stuff to do. People to annoy. No rest for the wicked. So, we’ll get right on that.” Well it was worth a try, but from the way she’s glaring at me I think we all risk of getting the business end of something sharp and pointy if we make a break for it. I can see everyone else thinks the same as Spike gets slowly to his feet, steps out of the circle and puts some distance between himself and Ethan.

“Stop right there, buster. Nobody moves a muscle ‘til I get some answers and if I don’t like what I’m hearing, someone is going to be in a world of hurt.” I knew it, and sometimes I really hate it when I’m right.

Ethan raises himself up on one knee and then pushes upright with one fluid movement, the hand furthest away from Buffy stashing the statue of Janus back in the small canvas bag as he turns to face her. “My dear Miss Summers, I’m sure there’s really no need for threats and violence. A polite word here, a gracious gesture there, do so much more to make the world go round.” That’s it Ethan, needle the pissed off Slayer. I wonder if he and Spike are related somewhere back in the mists of time.

“Ethan, I really don’t think this is the time.” That’s it Giles, be the voice of reason. Pour oil on troubled waters and that’s so obviously not working ‘cause now Buffy’s looking at the Giles like he’s just spilled Fyarl snot down her favourite halter top.

“No Ethan, this is definitely not the time. So, Giles, perhaps you can explain what’s going on? We could feel the magic practically oozing from this place as we got close. We thought you were under attack or something. And exactly what Mr Slimeball is doing here, because last time we talked, I don’t remember him being part of the equation? Unless we’re planning on using him as bait against the new big and creepy, ‘cause that’s a idea I could probably get behind.” It’s amazing how perky she can be when she’s threatening folk; it’s kind of endearing when you’re not on the receiving end.

Giles doesn’t look phased by Buffy’s attitude; I suppose he’s probably used to taking shit from her. It bothers me a bit that I didn’t ever really notice, but Giles is a grown up, he can take it. “Yes, well, Ethan was rather a last minute addition to our plans. There was no time to hold a committee meeting. Sometimes you just have to act, Buffy.” Action Giles, now that’s a scary thought and for a moment I picture him as one of those little figures you buy in model shops. I could just see him on the shelf next to my first edition Jean Luc and Aeryn Sun; it’d look kind of neat. Oh god, I’m thinking Giles as an action figure would be neat, I think someone needs to shoot me now. Rubbing my hand briskly through my hair to erase the image, I catch Spike’s eye and he grins and nods back to the Slayer. Oh yeah, where were we…

“Sometimes you just have to act? That’s it? Well isn’t that just dandy? While I was out dealing with Miss Psycho, you were catching up with old friends and probably having tea and scones or whatever else it is British guys have.”

Okay, I’ll take any diversion going and that one has a big neon sign above its head. “So Buff, how did you get on? Did you find Faith? What’s the what?”

“Oh yeah, I found her alright. We met, we bantered, we fought, she tried to put the whammy on me with some kind of magical doohicky that the Mayor left her, so Wills put the whammy on her and she left town.”

“Got to hand it to you Buff, you know how to tell a story. So, magical doohicky?”

She’s smiling at me now, but I’m not sure how long she’ll stay distracted. “I don’t know what it was, but if the Mayor left if for her, it was bound to be evil.”

“Umm, I know me asking this is probably all about gift horse and mouths, but how exactly did you get her to leave town?”

I get the feeling I’m not going to like the answer to this and when Willow bounces on the spot and grins over at Buffy and then back at me, I definitely know I’m not going to like the answer. “Oh, it was easy. After I dealt with the doohicky thing, I threatened to turn her into a toad – a really ugly, warty, smelly toad. I know it’s cliché, but I’ve already done the rat thing, so I thought I’d see if the old witchy stereotypes would work and they did. You should have seen her face! It was kind of satisfying to see her looking so scared. She thought she was so tough and here she was running from little old me.” Oh hell!

Ethan clears his throat and both girls turn back towards him. “Very inventive, Miss Rosenburg. You didn’t by any chance hold on to the… doohicky, did you?” He screws up his face in distaste, like he’s lowering himself by using our language.”

“Umm, I kind of made it go poof!” Willow looks so damn pleased with herself, and I don’t like the way Ethan’s looking at her.

“Poof. Ah well, that is a pity. You must tell me exactly how you did that, someday. I would enjoy chatting with another practitioner.”

Willow’s looking at him like all her Christmas’s have come at once and I wonder where the stern looks and righteous indignation has gone. Definitely time to change the subject. “But hey, no more psycho Slayer on the loose, so that’s a win in my book. I know she’s probably off terrorising someone else, and it makes me a really bad person, but I’m thinking we’ve got enough on our plate with the Initiative and the Robocop wannabee.”

Score, one distraction successfully delivered, although the downside is that Buffy’s back to looking pissed. “Which brings me back to my original question? What is going on here? I thought you and Spike were gathering information about the new player in town, so I really don’t understand why you’re both here surrounded by magic stuff and playing nice with tall, pale and creepy. So this me asking again, before I get really testy. What’s happening?”

Okay, time to fall on my sword and come clean, and I wonder if it’s actually possible to do both at the same time. “Well it’s like this…”

“Buffy, Spike did indeed gather some information on our newest threat and what he found was extremely disturbing.” Okay, looks like Giles is going to take the fall instead, I can live with that. “Dr Walsh has created a demon/human hybrid as the blueprints Xander discovered in 314 indicated. It is apparently immensely strong and has plans to replicate itself using the stock of demons collected by the Initiative and any available humans. Its agenda is violence, destruction and power.”

“So nothing new there, then.” Buffy’s fiddling with the end of Mr Pointy, her gaze shifting between Ethan and Spike and I’m not sure if she’s actually listening to Giles at all and from the expression on his face, I suspect Giles is thinking the same thing.

“Indeed. But at this point we have no idea how to defeat it. Spike is negotiating with it and it sees him as something of a business partner, so that relationship will hopefully give us more information and insight into its plans.”

“Right, because we all know Spike’s so trustworthy.” Bang on time Wills, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist getting a dig in.

I want to say something, but Spike is looking indignant and it’s about as convincing as his ‘I’m a little snuggle bunny who wouldn’t hurt a fly’ face.

“Oi, I resent that. Could have left you tossers to it. Taken my boy here and headed for Vegas.”

I can see Willow start to frown like she’s thinking of a really nasty spell she’d like to cast. “Hey, you can’t just ‘take’ Xander somewhere like he’s a piece of luggage or something”

“Willow.” God, I might as well be talking to myself for all the attention she’s paying. Now I know how Giles feels.

“No, Xander. I hate the way he talks about you. ‘His boy’ – it makes you sound like a possession, like he owns you.”

“It’s not like that, Willow. Spike’s just being Spike. He calls me pet and love and his boy and Xander and it’s all good. It’s like I call you Wills, or Giles, G-man. They’re just terms of affection; it’s what folk do when they’re in love.”

Buffy’s looking bored and I’m kind of relieved when she interrupts. “That’s all very cutesy, but we keep getting distracted here. Spike’s made nice with the bad guy and now we’ve got a source of information, so that’s all good. But what’s up with him being here?” She stabs in Ethan’s direction with the end of her stake just in case we hadn’t worked out who she’s talking about.

“I needed Ethan’s help with a spell.” Way to go with the obfuscation, Giles. “The ‘bad guy’, as you so colourfully put it, has threatened Xander specifically and the rest of the human population of Sunnydale by default. Spike needs to protect Xander and needs to be capable of going up against any Initiative soldiers who may be involved with the project.” I’m watching Riley out of the corner of my eye, but if he’s feeling anything right now, he’s doing a damn good job of hiding it.

“Still not seeing what this has got to do with Ethan, Giles. If you needed help with a spell, Willow could have done it.”

“Sure I could. I could have done more than helped if I’d known you needed it.”

“Thank you Willow, I will bear that in mind another time, but unfortunately I needed Ethan’s particular type of help for this spell.”

It’s quite entertaining to watch Giles tap dance around the facts, but he’s no Fred Astaire and I don’t think Buffy’s going to let it go. “Okay, so we’re still beating around a pretty big bush here. What was the spell, Giles?”

Light blue touch paper and wait for the explosion – three, two, one…”I needed Ethan to deactivate Spike’s chip.” Boom!

“You needed what!” Oh yeah, this ain’t going to be pretty. “You know, Giles, I think I need to get my hearing tested or something, ‘cause for a moment I thought you said you needed to deactivate Spike’s chip. But I obviously didn’t hear that, because no one in their right mind would press the on switch to a known killer.”

I can see Spike start to puff up at her description and I know if he starts talking, things are going to get even more out of hand. Giles obviously realises the same thing and jumps in before I can get started. “There’s no need for melodrama, Buffy. Yes, you heard me correctly. Yes, Ethan has disabled Spike’s chip. No, he is not going to go around randomly killing people and no I have not lost my mind, before you ask.”

“But Giles…” I knew Willow wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

“But nothing, Willow. No soldier deliberately goes into battle with one hand tied behind their back. We need all the resources we can muster and Spike is a formidable fighter. I would be negligent in my duties if I didn’t do everything in my power to support that.” The girls are staring at him like he’s just grown two heads, but Giles ignores them for the moment and turns towards Riley, who’s been hanging back, trying to keep out of the firing line. “Riley, would you like to add to the general clamour and complete the hat trick?”

Buffy swivels around, obviously waiting for her ex to jump in, but Riley has an uncomfortable look on his face and he glances from Buffy to Giles to the door, like he wants to rabbit, but doesn’t quite have the nerve. “I understand your worry Buffy: that Spike is one of the HST’s that you fight against, that Xander was safer when he was chipped, and you’re probably right. But I also understand Mr Giles’ point of view. I’m not saying I like the idea, but I’ve had a bit of time to think these last couple of days and I suppose I’m beginning to realise that things aren’t black and white. They never were, but I guess I was seeing what I wanted to see. I’m a soldier and he’s right. If Spike needs to be at full strength for us to win the battle, then we’d be mad to go in deliberately under strength.”

Okay, wow, so didn’t see that coming. It sounds like he’s on our side now, but it doesn’t mean I trust him.

“Touching, soldier, very touching. Next thing we’ll be going for beers and playing pool and exchanging war stories – only probably not.” Jeez, Spike, way to bond with the guy who’s just stuck his neck out for you.

“Don’t worry, Spike. I don’t like you any more than you like me and I’d still stake you given half a chance, but tactically, I can’t disagree with Mr Giles.” Buffy is staring at him, looking so betrayed and Willow is starting to pace, muttering agitatedly under her breath and I really don’t like where this is going.

Okay, I know I’m going to regret this, but here goes nothing! “Wills, what are you doing?” She looks up, startled, then annoyed at the interruption.

“I was just checking for possession spells. It’s the only explanation for Riley disagreeing with Buffy and Giles inviting Ethan to take out Spike’s chip.” She pauses for a moment, her nose wrinkling is dismay. “But I can’t find any evidence of a spell. It’s weird, but I’m assuming it just means that it’s a type of magic I’ve not come across before.” She nods to herself, satisfied that she’s got to the bottom of the problem. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll find it and we’ll all be back to normal.”

I glance across at Giles and he’s staring at Willow, horrified, as she continues to pace. Ethan looks almost amused, but as Spike moves up behind me and slides one arm around my waist, I know that we’re at a point where I can’t put this off any longer. “So it’s okay to threaten to turn Faith into a toad, but Giles is possessed because he invited Ethan to do magic? You’re willing to chat to Ethan about how you destroyed Faith’s little present from the Mayor, but Riley is possessed because he’s taking an objective strategic view and not agreeing with Buffy? So where does that leave me, Willow? I was here when Ethan cast the spell and I agree with Giles and Riley’s assessment about taking Spike’s chip out. Does that make me possessed too ‘cause you know I have a history of that? I really want to know what you think, Wills.”

She’s stopped pacing now and the atmosphere in the small room is heavy with emotion and the lingering smell of candle wax and herbs. I feel like I’m in an old black and white western, standing at one end of Main Street, my fingers twitching over the holster of my gun, waiting for the enemy to appear at the other end of the empty street. Only there’s no Jesse James here, no Billy the Kid, it’s just Willow, my best friend who’s got so strong and so scary that she could probably hurt me pretty badly with just a thought.

“Xander, don’t do this.” Her voice is full of repressed anger; she’s holding it in, like a cork in a bottle.

“Don’t do what, Wills? Ask you a question? I thought you were all about asking questions? Isn’t that what science is all about – asking questions, seeking out the truth? Of course, truth can be subjective, can’t it? Your truth, isn’t always my truth. It’s all about perception, but just because we disagree doesn’t make either of us wrong.”

“He’s, he’s…corrupted you, twisted you. You’ve come back from that trip and you’re different and you keep coming out with these things. My Xander would never say things like that. He’d have seen how wrong this was.” She’s shivering now, so much emotion just waiting to leak out and I wonder if we really have come to the end of our friendship.

“You keep talking about ‘your Xander’. Seems to me that you’re doing the same thing you were accusing Spike of. I don’t belong to you, Willow. I’m not a possession, a piece of luggage as you put it. And before you say it, I don’t belong to Spike either. That’s the thing I discovered on my trip and I’m sorry if you can’t get your head around it, but that’s your problem, not mine. The only person I belong to, is me. It’s my decision what happens to me. I love Spike, and I’m sorry if that hurts you, it’s not meant to. And yes, my emotions get in the way when it comes to him. I didn’t want Ethan to do the spell. I wanted another solution, but there wasn’t one. So I went with the only option I had and I can live with that. I’m sorry if you can’t, but that’s the truth. I’ve grown up Wills. I keep telling you that, but it’s like we’re talking different languages. You can’t wrap me up in case I get bumped or knocked or scratched by life. It doesn’t work like that and I need you to stop. You need to realise that you’re not always right.”

God, I feel sick and she’s staring at me like I beat her puppy to death. Spike is behind me, his arm around my waist the only thing that’s holding me up right now. “Well said, love. Proud of you.” It’s just a whisper in my ear, but as I lean back into his embrace Willow shakes her head in denial.

“It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. I’m sorry, I have no idea who you are, but I can’t be near you right now.” She grabs her bag from the side table by the couch and as she turns back, her face is streaked with tears and I feel myself start to crack, but Spike holds on and I watch her hurry towards the door. Her hand is shaking as she reaches for the handle and I can’t help one more try.

“Willow, please. Just think about it, that’s all I’m asking. Use your brain, not your magic.”

She turns back and stares at me and for a moment there’s a glimpse of a pre-teen girl with long hair and pale skin, enthusing about the latest science homework. But the tears run down her face, distorting the image and she shakes her head again. And then she’s gone and it’s like someone sucked all the air out of the room.

There’s silence for a moment and then Buffy strides up to me, her hand still firmly grasped around her stake, and I’m relieved when she pokes me in the chest with her empty hand. “I can’t believe you did that, Xander. I know she’s not exactly been Miss Congeniality since you came back and she and Oz split up, but you just stomped on 15 years of friendship and you let her go. I really can’t believe you did that.”

“I didn’t stomp on anything. I’m trying to remind her about those 15 years. If she really thinks I’m so weak and so easily swayed that I’d deliberately endanger the people around me, then maybe she’s the one who doesn’t know me. I know you think we’re wrong, but it’s done now. Please Buffy, go after her. Make sure she doesn’t do anything she’ll regret.”

Her finger hovers above my chest for a moment longer and then she sighs and nods. “Okay, I’ll go. But he’d better be gone by the time I get back, or I really won’t be responsible for my actions.” She jerks her head in Ethan’s direction and when I look across, he’s standing there, a curious mixture of expressions on his face, but I don’t have time to decipher them now.

“Sure, he’ll be gone, I promise.”

“Good.” And then it’s done. She turns away and before I can say anything else, she’s gone too and we’re all left looking at each other like we’re not sure what to say next. Then the dam breaks.

 _“Well, maybe I should… I believe a withdrawal would be prudent…Yes, well, that’s enough excitement…Christ, the Scooby gang finally implodes without me doing a damn thing, how bloody ironic is that._

The words all meld together in my brain as I piece together the events of the day. It’s almost all too much and I feel myself start to shake, when I hear a soft voice coming from the direction of the stairs. “Hey guys, what’s going on? I thought I heard shouting. Did I miss something?”

Oz, god, I’d forgotten he was here. He’s standing at the turn of the stairs, wearing a pair of oversized sweats and faded Cream, touring t-shirt. All he needs is the teddy bear and he’d look like some bizarre lost boy.

I try to put the events of the last few hours behind me and smile at him, but I’m pretty sure I’m not fooling anyone. “Umm, sorry, did we wake you? It was just a small misunderstanding. Hellmouthy stuff, you know how it goes?”

“Sure, I get that. And no, you didn’t wake me. After the last month, I was out for the count the minute my head hit the pillow. I was dreaming of water in my sleep and you know how that always ends.” He grins at me and then blushes at the over-sharing. “Um, thanks for the use of the bed, Giles. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome, Oz. You know you can stay as long as you like.”

“Thanks again, but I’m going to get stuff sorted today and then I’m heading out. I never did get to Tibet and it’s something I need to do. I’m sorry if it looks like I’m running while you’ve got stuff on your hands, but after all that’s happened, I can’t stay.”

“I think we all understand, Oz. No one thinks the less of you for leaving.”

He nods his thanks and, as he starts to turn away, he pauses and looks back, catching my eye. “Xander, I have a favour to ask. I need to leave soon. Will you say goodbye to Willow for me? She won’t understand and I can’t deal with it right now.”

“Sure, man. No problem.” He smiles and disappears back up the stairs and another card in our once secure stack topples to the ground.

Spike slides his arm away from my waist and fumbles in his pocket for a moment before taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He takes a few puffs and then moves closer, lifting his free hand to run it through my hair and I feel like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded right now. “You’ve got to stop taking on other people’s problems, pet. This could be the last straw. She’s going to hate you.”

“Maybe? I guess that’s up to her. I’m tired of being manipulated, and right now we’ve got more to worry about than Willow’s feelings.”

Spike’s hand moves gently through my hair again and comes to rest on the back of my neck. He holds the cigarette to one side and leans forward, kissing me lightly on the forehead. “Definitely proud of you, pet.”

“Yeah, well, I just wish I was proud of myself.”


	23. Realisations 22: Bridging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try to work out what happens next

_  
**Realisations 22: Bridging**   
_   


“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

He’s chewing his lip, gazing into space, before he turns to look at me. I don’t like the anxious look on his face, but I can’t say I blame him after what happened. “I was just wondering…about the chip, I mean. About the spell…how do we know it worked? The guys came crashing in just as Ethan finished doing his thing, or at least, I assume he was finished, what with the whole ‘Janus, I beseech you’ deal. And whoa, I’ve obviously been spending too long around Giles’s musty books because how the hell did I know what the Latin translated as?”

He turns to the Watcher as he speaks, the anxiety banished for a moment as he wiggles his eyebrows to take away the offence from the words, but Rupert just smiles tiredly and rubs his hand through his hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him looking so knackered. “You do yourself a disservice, Xander. I am well aware that you did not think favourably of your school days, but you were never stupid. I think you would be surprised at how much knowledge you have garnered over the years, if you sat back and reviewed it objectively.”

I can’t help nodding approvingly at the Watcher’s words. That’s the trouble with my boy, he’s always putting others first and assuming that they know more than him. He’s getting better, but there’s a bit to go yet. I’ve still got my hand on the back of his neck and I tighten the hold slightly and lean forward to whisper in his ear. “Listen to Rupert, love. He knows what he’s talking about. You’ve spend far too long around that bloody witch; she makes you second guess yourself, doubt your own abilities. So no more, yeah?”

I tug on the ends of the shaggy hair to reinforce the point and he leans back into me and nods. “Okay, I got it. I’m officially an unrecognised genius and all others should bow down before me and worship in awe. Happy now?”

He turns his head and grins at me and I am such a bloody sap. “Bloody delirious, pet!”

That gets a stuck out tongue and a chuckle before he starts again. “So now that we’ve sorted out my self esteem issues, can we get back to my question? Did the spell take? ‘Cause I’d hate to think we waded through all that crap just now for nothing.

I give a final tug on a stray curl and let go reluctantly. “Well, love, only one way to find out, ain’t there?” He’s swivelling round to look at me head on, a question clear in his eyes, but I just grin and quick as thought, turn away, my right hand forming a fist as my arm shoots out and lands a direct hit on the side of Ethan’s jaw. The chaos mage topples backwards, crashing into the edge of a side table, and comes to rest, perched on top of a pile of leather bound books and a scattering of papers. He sits for a moment, fingering his jaw, sourly watching me bouncing on the tip of my toes, and I can’t help grinning like a loon.

There’s a very unsubtle whoop from behind me, followed by a bout of embarrassed coughing. “Well, I guess that answered my question!”

Rayne’s expression gets even sourer as he shoots a look at my boy, but then it’s gone and he’s back to ‘Mr Urbane’. Man can act, I’ll give him that. “I suppose it did. I applaud the zeal with which you carried out your proof of concept, but I would rather not have been the recipient of the trial.” He’s trying for the ‘injured party’ tone, but not quite cutting it.

“Needed to prove that you hadn’t sold me a pup. Anyone can put on a bit of a show with the chanting and the bleeding and a few showy lights. Now I know you kept your end of the deal. Anyway, that was for all the crap you’ve pulled involving my boy over the last couple of years. If I see you looking at him sideways, I’ll pull your intestines out your arse and wrap them around your ears. Deal?”

I’m putting on my best intimidation act and the slimy bastard has the cheek to look amused, even if he is still rubbing his face. “You have such a way with words, William. Or should I say, Spike? Of course I kept up my end of the bargain. I wouldn’t have the pleasure of having Rupert in my debt if I hadn’t. Now, as delightful as the present company is, I think I should withdraw before Miss Summers returns. Discretion, in this case, is, I believe, the better part of valour.” I can’t help smirking as he slides off his precarious perch of books and papers, picks up his bag and oozes towards the door. The man may be a pain in the backside, but he’s got some style and a lot of nerve, and that goes a long way in my book. So long as he’s not messing with me or mine.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you gentlemen. Rupert, as always, a delight to see you. I will look forward to our next meeting. My boy, do look after your vampire, he has a tendency to get a trifle reckless when not properly controlled. But then, William always did like to be controlled.” Bastard’s been reading the histories again, although from the way my boy’s looking at me, maybe it’ll give him some interesting ideas. He stops briefly in front of Finn and it’s obvious the solider would rather be anywhere but here, but he stands his ground and eyeballs the creep without flinching. “Green really is your colour; it does wonders for your complexion. But you may want to get that little piece of metal removed.” His hand hovers for a moment over Finn’s chest and then turns back to the room. “Body modification is so last year, don’t you think?” He sketches a bow, opens the door with a flourish, and is gone. And I for one heave a bloody great sigh of relief. Never was one for magic.

There’s a tangible lightening of the atmosphere in the room, but I’m looking back at the soldier and he’s got his hand scratching lightly across his chest. “Mr Giles, what did he mean by that? It was a bit cryptic for me, so if you’ve got a translation, I’d be grateful.” You can see he hates asking for help, but he’s no fool, he knows when to swallow his pride.

“I think, Riley, that was Ethan’s oblique way of telling us that Spike may not be the only one who is carrying some kind of implant. Have you had any surgeries recently, or unexpected injuries which needed medical attention?”

Now this is a twist I wasn’t expecting and the soldier looks horrified at the implications of the Watcher’s questions. “Nothing recently. The last time I can think of was about a year ago. I was injured on patrol down in South America. They had to dig a bit of shrapnel out of my chest. I have the scar to prove it.”

Christ, I take it all back. He may not be a fool, but sometimes he’s just bloody dense. “Hate to tell you, soldier, but maybe at the same time they dug something out, they took the opportunity to put something in? Maybe I’m not the only one who’s chipped, yeah?” There’s a perverse satisfaction at the thought, but Xander’s hand rests lightly between my shoulders; he knows what I’m thinking and all of a sudden the hate and the tension seems to disperse. “Take it the good Doctor did the surgery?” Finn nods, opens his mouth to speak and then shuts it again, like he really doesn’t know what to say. “Looks like she’d been planning this for a long time then. Bloody scientists, can’t trust any of them.”

“Giles, what can we do? If Ethan knew about this, why couldn’t he do something about it, while he was helping Spike?”

“Janus is a hard task master, Xander. He does not perform on demand, and he certainly doesn’t grant more than one boon at a time. Besides, even when he’s helping, Ethan can’t resist stirring the pot. He may have done what we asked of him, but that last comment gives him some illusion of being in control.”

Xander scowls and he’s so damn cute when he’s pissed off at something. “Okay, I can officially go back to hating the bastard, even though he helped Spike. So can we do anything to help Riley? If Ethan is telling the truth, and that’s a big ‘if’, we need to do something before Riley goes all ‘Manchurian Candidate’ on us.” The Watcher chokes, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh, Finn looks confused and I’m grinning as my boy stares at them and shakes his head in mock disgust. “What? That was a great movie. Jeez, two minutes ago you were telling me I underestimated myself, now you’re looking at me like I copied someone’s homework!”

“My apologies, Xander. You do have the ability to come out with the most unlikely references and it threw me a little. I agree we need to discover if Ethan is telling the truth and, to be honest, the way the Initiative has behaved, I would not be surprised if they were experimenting on their own.” The soldier’s gone as green as his sweater, little beads of sweat running down his face as he listens to the Watcher. “I don’t mean to be harsh, Riley, but we need to know that you aren’t a threat - that you won’t compromise any of our plans. As a soldier, you must understand that?”

Finn nods slowly, the idea that he’s been somebody’s puppet all along obviously sinking in like the drips on the side of his neck. “I understand, Mr Giles. I want to throw up, but I understand. I can’t go back to the Initiative doctors. They’d probably put me in a little padded cell and conveniently lose the key.”

The Watcher’s rummaging in his desk, discarding amulets and manuscripts and the odd natty bit of jewellery that wouldn’t look out of place on Liz Taylor. Finally there’s a grunt of triumph and he turns back to the room with a small cream card. It looks so old fashioned, like a calling card from William’s time and there’s engraving in fine copperplate on one side. He moves across the room, a gleam of excitement in his eye as he gives Finn the card. “The military is so black and white, that they can’t conceive that anyone fighting to keep the Hellmouth safe could possibly have any ties to the shadier side of Sunnydale. They really should know better. I know a Pockla who owes me a favour from a long time ago, back in my younger days. If you ring that number, he should be able to take care of any problems.”

The soldier looks a bit sick about putting himself at the mercy of some unknown demon, especially if his ties to the Initiative get out, but it’s not like he has much choice. The reference from the Watcher should go a long way to smoothing the path, so the chances are, he’ll be fine. Not that I care, but I know my boy does. Finn stands for a moment, staring at the small scrap of cardboard, and as the expressions flicker across his face I can almost hear the internal debate he’s having about who to trust. Poor bastard probably can’t work out why this happened to him. Probably wishes he’d never set foot in Sunnydale. But he’s a good little soldier, in times of crisis he follows orders; the Watcher’s told him how to fix the problem and he’s enough of a realist to know that he’s out of options. Finally he slips the card in his pocket and looks up. “Thank you, Mr Giles. I suppose there’s no time like the present.” He smiles faintly, turns on his heel and leaves before anyone has a chance to reply.

Xander slips his hand into mine and looks over at the Watcher. “Thanks for helping him, Giles. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, despite his connections with the Initiative.”

“No, Xander, I don’t believe he is, either. He had a very narrow view of the world and now he’s having to take of his blinkers. It’s not a comfortable situation to be in, but I think he’ll get there.”

The Watcher slips off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly and my boy squeezes my hand briefly and clears his throat. “Umm, Giles, if you knew about the Pockla, why couldn’t you use him to sort Spike out?” That’s a bloody good question.

“It’s about the magnitude of debt, Xander. I suspect taking care of Riley’s problem will be relatively minor, in the scheme of things. I’m sure I’ll hear very quickly if it isn’t. But turning off Spike’s chip was a huge undertaking and my marker would not have held up against the scale of it. A large part of the demon community shun vampires; they see them as half breeds if you’ll pardon the expression, Spike. For a Pockla to help a vampire would have required a huge favour and I simply didn’t have that amount of leverage. That’s why I turned to Ethan, because, believe me, if there was any viable alternative I would have grasped it with both hands.”

“Oh, okay. Just thought I’d ask. So what happens next?”

“Next we must wait for Buffy to return and hope that she has managed to calm Willow down and talk some sense into her. Then we need to formulate a plan which will deal with the Initiative and its offspring, once and for all.”

Right, piece of piss, then. “Okay, while you’re thinking your deep thoughts, I’m going to go back and see the bad guy and see if I can get a time and date when everything’s going down.”

“That would be most helpful, Spike. Thank you.”

“Spike, be careful.”

He’s back to looking anxious, so I give him my best cocky grin, but I’m not so sure he’s fooled. “Always careful, pet. The git thinks I’m a little chipped bunny rabbit, so I’ll let him keep on thinking that for a while. Also got a few tricks up my sleeve that might just do the trick. You keep out of trouble while I’m away.” I look back at Rupert as I get to the door. “Keep him safe, Watcher. You won’t like the consequences if you don’t!”

“Thank you for that completely unnecessary threat. I will, of course, now find a large roll of cotton wool to wrap Xander in, and lock him in the broom cupboard until you return.”

“Now you’re getting the idea, Rupert.” I grin at him and he shakes his head, ignoring the murmurs of protest coming from the subject of our conversation.

“Right then, I’m off to find Robocop. It’s time he and I had another little chat.”


	24. Realisations 23: Breadcrumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike plots, Xander worries, Buffy gets confused and Willow smiles. Giles just feels old *g*

_  
**Realisations 23: Breadcrumbs**   
_   


  
Right then, time to go have another chat with Metal Mickey. Wanker thinks he’s so bloody invincible. He doesn’t have a fucking clue, and that’s why the wannabees always lose out in the end. I’m surprised no one’s ever worked it out – The Master, Angelus, The Mayor and now this guy – they’re all about the grand plan and the pomp and circumstance. They’ve got no subtlety, no finesse. Angelus thought he was subtle, but killing a load of fish is a school boy prank and putting the dead teacher in the Watcher’s bed was just juvenile – might as well have been a horse’s head, but the moron never was one for pop culture. So that’s why it’s a no brainer that this plonker is going down. He’s so busy being the big ‘I am’ and gazing out over the lands he plans to conquer like some two bit Genghis Khan, that he’s not looking at his feet. He’ll never see the trip wires ‘til it’s far too late, ‘cause he’d never believe anyone could lay them in the first place. Bloody great fool, he doesn’t stand a chance.

Right then, show time!

“Oi, tall, green and shiny, I’m back. Just thought I’d check in and see how the world domination plans are shaping up?”

He turns slowly, like he needs a bit of WD40 squirted on his joints. “A little respect would not go amiss, Spike, especially if you want me to help you with your problem.” Git! Knew he’d hold that over me. He’s going to get a bloody shock when he realises I don’t need his sodding help. But not yet, so I suppose I’d better look interested ‘cause he’s still droning on. “Do you really think that I am going to share my plans with you? You will receive the information you require and nothing more.”

“You know, I’m almost hurt. It’s like you don’t trust me and that could really undermine our business relationship, not to mention making a bloke feel unloved.” I’m glad my boy’s not here, he’d never be able to keep a straight face as I look suitably wounded. Christ, Passions has got nothing on me.

“Did you come here merely to annoy me, or is there a reason why I should tolerate your ramblings?”

I take a moment to light a fag and blow the smoke in his direction just for the hell of it. There’s a look of distaste on his face, like he’s got a bug up his arse about passive smoking, so I suppose it’s time to head him off at the pass. “Yeah, well, I just thought you’d like to hear the latest on the Slayer and her gang. I said I’d get you intel and lay the breadcrumb trail in return for the old chipectomy, so I’m reporting in, as promised.”

“Go on.”

Bloody hell, it’s like getting blood out of a stone, although with being on the Hellmouth, I probably shouldn’t joke about these things. “You’re not a man of many words are you? And while we’re on the subject, what should I call you, because Robo Junior probably isn’t on your birth certificate?”

His smile is almost feral and for a moment I wonder if I’ve made a big miscalculation. “You could call me ‘Master’. Not bloody likely. “But I can see that does not appeal to you. Perhaps later? In fact, I will insist on it later. For now, you may call me ‘Adam’. It is what Mother named me, so it seems appropriate.”

Okay, a monster with mommy issues, guess my first assessment was right after all. “Right then, Adam it is. Good solid name. Can’t beat the Bible for baby names. Mind you, knew a bloke called Habakkuk once. Boy, if ever someone was going to get beaten up by the football team it was him. His mum was a bit dotty when it came to the good book. Why she couldn’t have chosen a nice normal name like Solomon or Zachariah, I’ll never know?”

“Does this conversation have a point, Spike? I could just kill you now?”

“Oi, you need me to deliver the Slayer.”

“I do have other tools at my disposal. You need me, more than I need you. Remember that.”

“No need to get threatening. Okay, I’ll admit it, you make me nervous. I’m a bloody Master vampire and I’m used to being in charge; used to being in control. But you’re in a different league, mate, and it makes my demon edgy. You’re got the whole genetic engineering mojo going for you and with the chip and all, I’m not quite up to scratch at the moment. See, I’m nervous and that makes my brain and my mouth go in odd directions.” Right on target, look at the stupid git preen. Feed them a bit of shit with sugar sprinkled on top and they’ll eat it up with a spoon.”

“Your candour pleases me. Perhaps you will be of use, after all.”

Oh, isn’t it nice to feel wanted! “That’s the ticket. You and me, big guy - we’re a team. Like Butch and Sundance, Sony and Cher, Torvill and Dean.”

“I think Cain and Abel might be more appropriate, don’t you?“ Yeah, and I bet I know who is who.

“Never was one for Jeffrey Archer, I’m more of a Mickey Spillane kind of a bloke.”

“Enough of this idiocy! You said that you had something to report.”

“Right then, no need to get you knickers in a twist. The Slayer’s not very happy with me at the moment. She’s pissed off that I upset her little lapdog. I’ve been keeping two steps ahead of her, just far enough to keep out of reach, but near enough that she still keeps coming. Give her enough hope that she’s close enough for the kill and she’ll keep on taking the bait. So the question is, where do you want her? Just give me a time and a place, big guy, and I’ll go play Pied Piper. Maybe mess a bit more with the Slayerettes before hand, just to give her a bit of extra incentive, yeah?”

“You are playing a dangerous game, Spike. Make sure you don’t let her get too close before you finish your mission.”

“Not a chance, mate. Got two Slayers under my belt already. She’ll not catch up with me ‘til I let her. So back to the facts, just tell me when and where?”

“Tomorrow. The Initiative. Use the back entrance in Restfield.”

Now we’re getting down to it, but I know he’s still toying with me so I up the act. “You want me to go back into the Initiative? Are you nuts?”

“Do you want the chip removed?”

Nice to know I’ve not misread the bastard. “Okay, you got me there. I don’t like being strong armed, but I’d probably do the same thing in your place. I’ll do it, but it’ll have to be after sundown, vampire, remember.”

“Don’t worry, Spike. After dark is acceptable. It will give me more time to prepare a fitting reception.”

“Right then, tomorrow night it is. Well if there’s nothing else, I’ll be off. Got some other bits of business to take care of. I get the feeling that, after tomorrow, things are going to be a little bit hairy for a while.”

“Forward planning, I like that. Perhaps we are not so different after all?”

Ain’t that the scary thought? “Peas in a pod, mate. Peas in a bloody pod.”

“Spike. Don’t let me down.”

“Yeah, I get it. Don’t make you angry. I won’t like you when you’re angry.”

He grins again and it really isn’t pretty. “No, you really wouldn’t.”

See? That’s what I hate about these creeps. They’ve got no appreciation of decent tv.”

I’m just turning to go when I pause like I’ve had one last thought. “Nearly forgot. You don’t mind if I take a quick snap do you? Just to remind me of our partnership. You know what demons are like, always boasting, always trying to prove they were there at the start of stuff. It’s like the number of gits I’ve come across who say they were at Woodstock…” He’s looking all impatient, but when I fish the small digital camera out of my pocket he draws himself up to his full height and poses, like any other starlet. That’s right, just call me Mr DeMille and I have to say this close up is just fucking ugly. “That’s it, just stay still and smile and… perfect. Brilliant, definitely got your best side. You’re the man, and now I’ve got the evidence to prove that I knew you back in the day.”

“Don’t you want a picture of us both, to prove that you were here?”

God he’s so fucking vain. “Vampire, mate. Can’t be picked up in pictures, can I? Otherwise I’d jump at the chance. But I’m not the important one here. Got a picture of you, that’s all that matters.”

I take a final puff on my fag and throw it down, grinding it under my heel as he turns back to his machinery. Wanker. Thinks he’s so damn special, but he’s got no class, no style, not even a proper demon. He thinks he’s the kick and that’s going to take him apart. Celebrities – they never see it coming.

************************

I don’t think I ever realised just how hard it is to stay still and not fidget. Before, when we had research parties, there was always pages to turn, pizza to scoff, the girls to laugh with, and I really never thought I’d look back fondly on those nights. But right now, waiting for the other shoe to drop, I’d give a lot for that kind of normality. I can’t wait for Spike to get back so that we can get down to some serious planning, and I’m praying that Buffy will turn up soon and that she’ll have some good news. I knew things had to come to a head with Willow eventually. God knows she’s been spoiling for a fight since she found out about Spike, but I’d do a lot right now to have things okay between us. The same argument Giles made about not going into battle under resourced, works as well for Willow as it does for Spike. I’m just hoping that we can set aside our differences, at least as long as it takes to get the job done. After that, who knows?

“Xander, are you alright? Actually, I’ll rephrase that. I know you’re not alright, but is there anything I can do to help?”

“Thanks Giles. I’m fine. Well sort of fine. You know you’re doing a lot to help, just by being non judgemental guy when it comes to me and Spike.” He smiles gently and I get a sudden flash of what he must have looked like when he was my age. “After this is over, Giles, I’m not sure that I can stay. I’m not sure I want to stay. Does that make me a coward?”

“No, Xander, it doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you an adult. I know you want the approval of your friends and family, we all do, unfortunately it doesn’t always happen that way. But you can’t live your life for them. You have to make decisions about what is best for you. Follow your heart and your head and don’t listen to the whispers in your ear – you’ll find, after a while, that they will quieten down. If it’s any help, you will always have my support, although I reserve the right to worry. Buffy and Willow will have the same support when they get to this point in their lives. And you must know you can always come to me if things don’t turn out the way you planned.”

Way to go G-man, he’s being honest and I guess I have to be honest back. “If things don’t turn out the way I’ve planned, I get the feeling I wouldn’t get through your front door.”

He grimaces at the accuracy of the comment. “Well, let’s hope we never have to cross that particular bridge.”

“Yeah, let’s hope not. I know the risks, Giles, and I’m willing to take the chance.”

There’s a silence for a moment, but that’s okay. We’ve said the things that need to be said, so silence is good. It’s not threatening and we both sit and contemplate for a minute ‘til there’s a low cough coming from the other end of the room. Oz is standing by the door and I guess Giles and I were too bound up in our inner thoughts to notice him. “Hey, guys. Like I say, sorry to bail on you, but I really got to run. Got the chance of a lift to San Francisco and we’ll see from there. I’ve got a few leads on the whole Tibet thing, so I’m going to see where they take me.”

He looks so small and awkward, standing by the door, with just to clothes on his back and nothing else and then it strikes me. “How are you going to travel? We didn’t get any of your stuff back from the Initiative – passport and money and stuff. Can’t you stay a bit: let us help us help you out?” I know that last bit is probably selfish, ‘cause I’m not exactly looking forward to telling Willow that Oz has gone, but the sentiment really is well meant.

“Thanks, Xander. I’m picking up what I need from the friend who’s giving me a ride. That’s part of the urgency. I don’t really think Daniel Osbourne should be registered as leaving the States for parts unknown, so he’s going to help me with that.”

He smiles and all of a sudden I wish we’d been better friends – that hormones hadn’t come between us and I think he probably thinks that too. There’s no hugs, no heartfelt goodbyes, just a smile and a nod of the head. He’s reaching for the handle as the door pushes inward and Buffy bumps into him and stops, a surprised look on her face. I hold my breath, expecting Willow to follow and I’m not sure if I’d be happy or sad if it happened. But Buffy and Oz just stare at each other for a moment and then he raises a hand and waves. “Hey guys, good luck with the Hellmouth thing. And thanks for the rescue. “ Just a couple of sentences and he’s gone and we’re left staring at Buffy like we’re waiting for the next act of a play.

For a moment there’s silence, but then I take a breath and do what I do best – make a joke. “Hey, Buff, did you find her? Are things okay? Is she making one of those voodoo dolls of me so she can stick pins? ‘Cause you should probably know, acupuncture is a real phobia. Spike can’t even get me to play darts, ‘cause you know all those sharp pointy bits are so damn creepy, not to mention that I can’t subtract backwards from 501.”

She stares at me for a moment, like she’s sorting through the babble and I can see the instant when she gets down to the actual meat of what I said. And to think the career teachers thought she’d never learn a second language. “Umm, yes, sort off and no – anyway, she’s more likely to be making a Spike doll, and I think, knowing Will’s inclination for overkill, she’s probably thinking six inch nails.”

“But…”

She walks towards me, and grabs my upper arm lightly and it’s all I can do not to wince. I’m just glad Spike’s not here, ‘cause god knows Buffy forgets her strength sometimes. “Let me finish. I caught up with her over at the cafeteria. She’d obviously calmed down a lot on the walk back over and she was talking to that new girl she’s been hanging out with at the Wicca group. Tara, I think her name is. Anyway, this chick is as laid back as they come and I think she’s a good influence on Willow. When I saw them, it was pretty obvious that Wills had been giving her a whole big spiel about her oldest friend being nasty to her, but when I got her on her own afterwards, she told me Tara had chewed her out for being judgemental. Well, chewed out probably isn’t the right expression, because I can’t see that girl so much as raising her voice, but something she said must have got through because Willow looked kind of embarrassed by the whole thing.”

“Wow. I think I’ve got to meet this chick. Anyone that can talk Wills down from one of her moods has got to have superpowers.”

Okay, I’ve just complimented one girl, but I’ve obviously pissed off another. Note to self – always be nicer to the girl who’s actually in your face, especially if they’ve stronger than you. I smile in most ingratiating manner, but she doesn’t look convinced and when she answers, I realise that I’m right. “Hey, I’ve got superpowers. How come I can never talk her round when she disagrees with me?”

“Maybe you simply lack the right superpower, Buffy?” Whoa, I was so focused on Buffy, I’d forgotten Giles was there.”

“What do you mean, Giles?” She looks confused, but as I sort through Giles words, I’ve got the weirdest feeling, and if I’m right, this is going to put a whole new complexion on things.

Giles rummages in his pocket for a moment, ‘til he comes up with a handkerchief and blows his nose hard before putting away. I don’t think he’s actually got a cold, but I can recognise a distraction when I see one and I wait for a moment ‘til he takes a breath and looks back up at Buffy. “I detest gossip, so I probably shouldn’t speculate. However I think it might throw some light on some of Willow’s more erratic behaviour.”

“You’re killing me here, Giles.”

Right on cue, he takes his glasses off, but then he sighs and puts them back on, looking his Slayer right in the eye. “I suspect Xander is not the only one who’s been experimenting with alternative lifestyles recently.”

“Huh?”

Buffy is so damn naïve sometimes, but I’m not, though this isn’t the time to flex those muscles. I glance at Giles and get a glimmer of a smile in his eyes, so I follow my cue. “Giles, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Bingo – said with just the right amount of youthful confusion.

“Quite probably, Xander, although I’m probably putting it slightly differently than you would.” The slight crinkling at the corner of his mouth is the only clue that he’s playing along and Buffy would probably kill us if she knew. But then, she’d probably kill us if she knew how many other times we’d conspired to keep her safe and shield her for the harsher parts of life.

“Would one of you tell me what you’re going on about?”

Okay, not a pissed off Slayer, which is always good. But maybe disgruntled. Yeah, that’s a good word. I can work with disgruntled. “I think what Giles is trying to say is that Willow and Tara might be more than friends.”

She stands for a moment, working through his words and I can almost see the moment the penny drops. She maybe blonde, but despite her reputation, she really isn’t stupid. “You mean…you really mean more than friends, don’t you? Didn’t see that coming. Do you think it’s something Hellmouthy?”

Giles sighs again and wanders across the room, picking things up and putting them down at random ‘til he turns and faces her again. He really does hate dealing with this relationship stuff, but he knows it has to be done, even if another Watcher wouldn’t have bothered. “I suspect it’s more to do with emotions than demons, Buffy. I’ve noticed a tone in her voice when she talks about her friend and she’s started to say something to me a couple of times and then stopped herself. It did make me wonder, but I didn’t like to push her. She’s obviously not talked to either of you about it, so she must be feeling confused and scared right now. “

Buffy’s nodding but not shouting or threatening to kill someone, which is a plus, but I’m not sure how far off she is, so I think another bit of diffusion might be needed. “Okay, so Wills might be batting for the other team - hence the raving control freak scene we had, and I can’t believe I just said ‘hence’.”

Giles smiles at me and I know he knows damn fine what I did and that’s okay. He turns to Buffy and looks her in the eye and she looks back, waiting for instruction and I wonder for a moment what would have happened if we hadn’t had Giles. “Anyway, I don’t think we should say anything about this. She will tell us when she’s ready and I for one will act both surprised and supportive when she does.”

“Check, surprise and support, we can do that.”

“Well we might be doing it sooner than you think, ‘cause she said she would be about 10 minutes behind me. I offered to wait, but she said she wanted have a shower and get her head together before coming over.”

“Okay, and that 10 minutes was over about, um 15 minutes ago. Glancing over at Giles, I get a nod of reassurance and support and it’s just as well because as I turn back towards Buffy, the front door opens and Willow’s standing on the doorstep, her expression a strange mixture of resolution and uncertainty.

It’s Giles to the rescue again. “Willow, please, no need to stand on ceremony. Please come in.”

She nods and I can almost see her back straighten as she walks in the room. “Thanks, Giles.” She looks around and smiles, but it’s too bright, too forced and I realise that it’s an act. How many times have we done this since we’ve known each other – Willow not getting her own way, and trying to make it look like she’s capitulated. I’m not even sure she realises that she’s doing it, but if it keeps things ticking along for now, then I’ll take any act she wants to give us. I come back from my thoughts and she’s looking at me, her smile even wider than before. “So, the gangs all here then?”

Okay, I suppose it’s now on never. “Not exactly, Wills. Oz had to leave, he asked me to say goodbye to you. I’m sorry, but he couldn’t miss his ride.”

Her smile dims and then gets brighter again like someone’s flicking a switch on and off. “Oh, right. I guess he couldn’t hang around with all the stuff that’s going on. If he had the chance to get out, then he did the right thing.”

Oh hell, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but it’s worse than I thought. Perhaps a little diversion might stir things up a bit. “Ethan’s gone and Riley’s off having a Pockla take out some implant that Maggie Walsh put in.”

“What?” Oh shit, I forgot Buffy didn’t know about that.

“Don’t worry, Buff. It’s probably a tracer or something, but Giles didn’t want to take any chances, so he’s sent Riley to see a healer. He’ll be fine.”

She looks from me to Giles and gets a reassuring nod. “Oh, okay, I guess.”

That’s as good an answer as any and I turn my attention back to Willow. “And Spike’s gone to see what he can find out about the demon hybrid’s plans.”

I wait, watching her, trying to gauge her reaction, unconsciously holding my breath as I wait for her response. I can almost hear the wheels turning in that big brain of hers as she works out the best thing to say. But before she can formulate the words, the apartment door opens again and Spike comes bouncing into the room. And I hear Giles groan from behind me. “You know it’s getting to be like a damn Whitehall farce in here, with all the bloody comings and goings.”

Whoa, two cuss words in one sentence, Ethan really is a bad influence on Giles, but when I look at Spike, he’s just grinning, bouncing on his toes as he looks around the room. “So what’s next then, Watcher – a half naked bloke with a banana down his knickers. Now that’s something I’d pay good money to see.” He leers at Giles for a moment and then turns back to the rest of us. “Right then, so the musketeer’s are all assembled. Brilliant. Now we can get down to some serious planning and go kick this sucker’s arse.” He looks at each of in turn, like he’s measuring reaction, but I notice that he stares at Willow the longest, almost like he’s mentally goading her into a confrontation. But she stays silent. I know my Wills. Now that she’s had her initial blow up, she’ll chose her battlefields and now isn’t the time.

Giles is the first to move, ambling across the small room and flopping down into his armchair and one by one the rest of us take the cue to follow. Spike is the only one left standing, though he’s right behind my seat, one hand resting lightly on my shoulder. I feel like I’m breathing again for the first time in hours. “So, how did you get on? Did you find anything out?”

There’s another shoulder squeeze before he starts. “Oh yeah. Big, tall and creepy actually goes by the name of Adam and yep I thought it was pretty naff as well, although I wasn’t going to tell him that. Stuff’s going down tomorrow night, so he wants the Slayer in the Initiative after dark, using the Restfield entrance. Express delivery courtesy of yours truly.”

“Of course you immediately agreed to play postman.”

“Got it in one, Watcher. But you know what it’s like with parcel deliveries – they never turn up when you’re expecting them. Can be sitting in for hours waiting for the doorbell to go and you know they’ll turn up the minute you nip out to the shops.”

“Spike, what exactly are you saying?”

“I thought we might drop in unexpected, like. I had to remind the stupid git that I was a vamp, that I couldn’t do anything ‘til after dark. He doesn’t know about the Gem of Amara, so I thought we might gatecrash his little tea party a bit early.”

I twist round in my seat and look up at him, and he grins at me and winks. “I thought you might like to see what you’re going up against, so I persuaded him to say ‘cheese’ for me.” He fishes in his duster pocket, and pulls out the small camera he bought when we were on our trip, and quickly calls up the right picture. He’s shaking his head as he stares at the screen. “That really is a face only a mother could love.”

I take the camera off him, staring at the latest product of Hellmouth weirdness and then watch as the camera is passed around everyone. Giles looks disgusted and I don’t blame him. Buffy stares at the picture like she’s trying to work out where the monster’s weaknesses might be, but it’s Willow who catches my attention. She’s almost got a look of wonder on her face and I just bet she’s blown away by the science that could create such a thing.

I take the camera back and look at the screen one more time before handing it back to Spike. “Jeez, talk about ugly and freaky looking. It looks likes something Picasso would have come up with in his cubic period – all odd angles and not put together right."

There’s a cough from the direction of Giles chair and the sound of heavily suppressed laughter. “I rather think you mean ‘cubist’, Xander, and I’d probably go more for Dali than Picasso. God knows, this couldn’t get any more surreal."

Talk about a jinx and we all turn and stare at Giles like we can’t believe he said that. Spike moves across to the counter where Giles keeps his booze and pours himself a stiff shot of Malt without even asking. He sniffs at the whisky appreciatively and then grins back at Giles and I know he’s loving every moment of the attention. “I wouldn’t count on that, Watcher. I really wouldn’t count on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**  
>  Metal Mickey was a robot on a British kids TV show of the same name which ran from 1980-1983. Curiously one of the producers of the show was Mickey Dolenz of The Monkees fame. Here’s the wiki link for more info and a picture of Mickey (the robot, not the Monkee *g*) <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metal_Mickey>
> 
> Whitehall Farce takes its name from the Whitehall Theatre in London where Brian Rix set up shop in the 1950’s and 60’s. He staged a series of, at the time, risqué bedroom farces which relied on visual jokes and innuendo to get the plot going but, for all that, were actually very innocent if we were to look at them now.


	25. Realisations 24: Cliff Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang plan what to do and Spike gets an unexpected ally.

_  
**Realisations 24: Cliff Edge**   
_   


  
Christ, I feel like we’ve been here for hours, going round in bloody circles. If someone doesn’t do something soon I’m not going to be responsible for my actions. It’s one thing to recognise that the boy has changed me, I don’t have an issue with that, god knows I always was love’s bitch, but to be sitting here, listening to the white hats trying to work out how to take down the Terminator look-alike and not getting anywhere fast, it makes me wonder – how the hell did they ever beat anyone? It seems pretty obvious to me what’s going to happen, but I know if I say anything the Slayer will assume I’m playing both sides of the fence. But all this buggering about, it’s enough to try the patience of a saint, and Christ knows I’m not one of those. Right, that’s it. I can’t stand this any more. “Don’t know about you lot, but I’ve had enough of all this bloody talking. You’ve got a bad guy out there. Let’s go get him. Save the Hellmouth for Christmas and puppies and all that shite.”

My boy grins up at me, but the girls stare like I’ve got two heads and the Watcher just splutters for a moment, then sighs. “Spike, I appreciate the sentiment and there’s nothing I’d like better than to get this over with, but I’m not sending Buffy, or anyone else, into battle unprepared. Your idea to take Adam unawares is a good one, but I’m trying to lay out what we know, so that we can work out what we don’t know. I don’t want us having any blind spots.”

“I understand that Watcher, but I’m beginning to feel like Robinson fucking Crusoe, the number of times we’ve gone in a circle on this.”

I’m looking at all the papers laid out on the floor – scribbled with red pen like some kind of hellish final year exam and I know what they’re trying to do, but I really can’t stand the waiting anymore. Rummaging around in my pocket I haul out a battered packet of fags and pull one out, light it, ignoring the inevitable barrage of protests. I take a long drag, enjoying the moment, but come back to myself when a strong hand starts kneading my thigh. I look down with him and he smiles and pushes himself wearily out of the chair, running his fingers through his hair. As I watch him stretch and relax I realise how long it is since we had sex. Too damn long. I catch his gaze and see the look in his eye and he blushes and shakes his head. He knows exactly what I’m thinking and takes a breath, looking around at his friends sprawled around the small room. “Okay, let’s all just calm down and lay things out one more time. We know what Adam looks like. We know that he wants Buffy, but not why. We know when he’s planning something – we just don’t know what he’s planning, apart from wanting to replicate himself and take over the world, or maybe just the Hellmouth – I think the jury’s out on that one. Basically it’d be like any run of the mill sci-fi plot if it wasn’t for the stupid reality of the whole thing. So all we need to do is put the pieces together. It’s a big jigsaw, though hopefully not like the one Uncle Rory gave me when I was eight because how an eight year old is supposed to put together a jigsaw of outer space when all the pieces are black, I’ll never know.”

“Pet…”

He looks at me, startled out of his meandering thoughts. “Umm, sorry, kind of lost the thread there didn’t I?

I shake my head fondly and take another drag of my smoke. Right then, suppose it’s time for a bit of cheerleading, though without the whole disturbing pompom image. “Okay, love, how’s he going to make this army of mini me’s?”

“Body parts, he needs lots and lots of body parts” That’s it pet, do the maths. He stares at me for a moment, his mind obviously slotting the pieces into place. “Oh shit. There’s all the demons locked up in the Initiative. Open a few locks, turn a few keys and the Coliseum will have nothing on the carnage that’ll happen. It’ll be like late night shopping at Wal Mart with a special on severed legs.”

Now there’s a pretty image.

He’s looking to the Watcher for confirmation and when he gets a nod and a smile, his face lights up like it’s Christmas morning. Out of the corner of my eye I see the witch staring him, a confused expression on her face. Don’t think she’s used to seeing this side of her best friend. She’s got this image of him in her head and watching him being all capable and working things out doesn’t fit with that at all. Tough shit, she’d better get used to it.

The Slayer bounces up and starts to pace like she’s itching to kill something. I know the feeling. “Okay, all that makes a Hellmouthy kind of sense, but I still don’t understand why he wants me there.”

“He wants to use you, Slayer. Your instincts will tell you to fight the demons and try to save the soldier boys. You’ll even up the odds, make sure he gets the full range of body parts from both sides, not just from the soldiers. You’ll go down fighting and he’ll get rid of the Hellmouth’s main protector. Sort of neat really, in a ‘two birds with one stone’ kind of a way.”

"Yeah, well maybe I’ll admire the symmetry when we’ve dealt with Adam. I’m in the mood for some serious slaying, Giles.” Knew it!

The Watcher rubs his temples like he’s fighting off a headache and then looks back at his Slayer. “Yes, well it would be helpful if we actually knew what would kill him.”

“Umm, I think I can help with that, Giles.” The witch looks perky and a bit smug as she waves a bit of paper in the Watcher’s face. “Look at the blueprint. All his details are there. He’s got a uranium core, so in theory all we need to do is neutralise his core and poof, no more Adam.”

“Great, so we just ask him to lie down quietly while we do some exploratory surgery?” That’s my boy; I can always depend on him for the witty comment when it’s needed.

She shoots him a look like she can’t believe he’s just said that. “What about magic…I don’t know, some kind of uranium extracting spell?” The Slayer snorts and Xander’s looking at her like she’s lost her mind and she has the grace to blush, just for a moment. “I know…I’m reaching.”

The Watcher pushes himself out of his chair, weariness obvious in every gesture as he moves across to his book shelves and starts to rummage through the ancient volumes. He pauses, his hand hovering over the spines, before pulling out one tattered book and turning the pages slowly. The girls watch him expectantly as he stops at one page. “Perhaps a paralysing spell?” The witch looks interested and starts to move towards him, but the Watcher holds up his hand to stop her as he runs his finger down the text and sighs. “Only, not this one.”

“What, is it in something weird like Ukranian, or Romanian, or Sumerian or any other obscure language ending in ‘ian’?”

“I hardly think the eastern European languages you cited could be termed obscure, Xander. Besides, I do speak Sumerian. No, the problem is that this particular spell has to be incanted by a very experienced witch and you have to be within striking distance of the object you wish to paralyse.”

“So, no problem. All we need is a combo of Buffy’s kick ass strength, Giles’ language kung fu and Willow’s witchy magic – bingo, problem solved – bye bye Adam.” Now the girls are staring at him like he’s got two heads – it’s obviously catching. “Okay, don’t look at me like that; I know I’m just full of helpful suggestions.”

“Actually Xander, I rather think you are.”

*************************

It’s funny how graveyards always look different during the day. All sort of sad and grey looking; overturned stones and dead flowers in vases filled with stagnant water. There’s no romance here, no mystery like you get in the darkness. Once this crap is over I’m going to take my boy and show him some of the great cemeteries of the world – the Glasgow Necropolis, La Pere Lachaise in Paris, Highgate in London and New Orleans’ St Louis No. 1 – proper places to go on a date.

“Spike…Spike are you with us?”

He’s got a hand on my shoulder, running his thumb along the edge of my collar bone and if I was a cat, I’d definitely purr. “Yeah, I’m here, pet. Just thinking about stuff, making plans, you know?”

The thumb stops momentarily and then starts again. “Oh, have you decided what you’re going to do?”

He’s so transparent, even after all this time. Come a long way, but there’s still a little voice in his head that says folk must have better things to do than spend time with him. Guess I’m going to give him a bit more schooling. That’ll be fun, but it’s for later. “No, I haven’t decided. Thought that was a discussion we should have together, yeah?”

His smile is blinding and something deep in my guts twists for the hundredth time since we started this dance. “I’d like that. But I suppose we have to get through this first.”

“Better get started then, hadn’t we?”

I look behind me and the rest of the gang is going through their kit. What the hell the Watcher is doing with a gourd I’ll never know and I’m definitely not going to ask. He finishes his inspection and looks round at his troops and I can almost see the ghost of a swagger stick under his arm. That’s something that’s always interested me about Rupert – he lets his Slayer have her own way and she’ll never realise how quickly he could slap her down if he wanted. He just chooses to hide it behind glasses and cups of tea most of the time. Looks like this isn’t one of those times. “Right then, I think we’re ready. Spike if you can show us the back way into the Initiative, we can get the spell set up and hope to sneak up on Adam before he is aware of us. Or at least not fully prepared. We all know our parts, so I suggest we get on with it while we still have the element of surprise.

My boy slides his hand off my shoulder and clamps round my wrist as he listens to the Watcher and I can almost feel the tension vibrating through his body. “Giles, do you really need me for the spell? I can be there in spirit; it would work just as well I’m sure. I mean, I’m flattered that I’m supposed to be the heart of the group, but I was away all summer and that didn’t stop the way I feel about you guys, you still knew that didn’t you? I’ll feel how I do whether I’m there or not. Not that I want to rip the heart out of the group, because I’m all against the heart ripping but you get what I’m saying and I’m stopping now.”

Throughout his speech his grip on my wrist gets tighter and tighter and eventually I reach across and uncurl his hand and push my fingers through his ‘til I’m holding his hand just as tight. “Love, you need to be with the gang. Saw enough mojo with Dru over the years – things tend to go wrong if there’s one ingredient missing. There’s one chance to do this, so do it right.”

“But…”

His eyes are enormous as he watches me and there’s a part of me that’s thrilled that he would make a choice and turn his back on his friends. I’ve been around long enough to know when to push the boundaries and this isn’t the time. “No buts, love. I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”

“You’re planning something, I can tell.”

No flies on my boy, that’s why I love him. “Not all the demons in the cells are violent. You saw that when we went through before. Remember the babies? If Adam starts the show early we need to do as much evacuation as we can.” I glance across at the Watcher and he’s staring at me sceptically. Bugger, time for a bit of smoke and mirrors. “Besides, there’s a few powerful demons in those cells. Releasing them will give me a tidy pile of markers to call in when I need them. Win Win situation all round.” That should do it, and yep, Rupert’s frown smoothes away now he’s got an explanation he can live with. I turn back to my boy and grin cockily. “You concentrate on the mojo and I’ll concentrate on the practical stuff, yeah?”

“On your own?”

I’m considering how best to answer without making him even more worried when a new voice enters the discussion. “Not necessarily.”

Bloody hell, it’s soldier boy, and just look at the way the Slayer’s face lights up for a moment, before becoming impassive. “Riley! Are you okay? Are you on your own? How did you know where to find us?”

The last question has an edge to it and the soldier has the grace to look a little sheepish. “I’m fine; the Pockla took out the implant. Yes I’m on my own, if you’re asking if I was followed? And I checked all the usual hangouts and when you weren’t there, I guessed you’d be the only other place you’d find a Slayer – the cemetery.”

She nods once, then squares up to him, looking him right in the eye. “Riley, you need to go now. We’ve got stuff to do. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”

“It’s my fight too, Buffy. The implant was supposed to control me once it was activated. I’m guessing Adam would be the one holding the big red button. I need to be part of this.”

“But you can’t be part of the spell.”

He takes a step back as if she hit him, and I suppose she did – telling him that he can’t contribute. It’s the kind of comment that Xander’s been getting for years – well meant and completely emasculating, especially coming from a tiny blonde. They look at each other for a moment, like they’re sizing each other up and then the soldier smiles faintly and shakes his head. “It’s okay, Buffy I’ve had enough of magic. But I agree with Xander, sending Spike in to the cells alone is crazy.”

“Oi, nobody’s ‘sending’ me anywhere. My decision, my choice. And this big bad doesn’t need any help from some mealy mouthed farm boy.”

He grins at me, but there’s an edge to his expression and I catch a glimpse of perhaps why he was in charge of an entire platoon of soldiers. “I didn’t say you did, Spike. When Ethan dechipped you, I agreed with Giles that having front line troops going in under strength was bad strategy. Well so is someone going into a hot zone on their own. Don’t worry, we can go back to hating each other after this is over, but right now it’s war and we all have to put personal feelings aside or we’re going to lose.”

Interesting and pretty logical, but I can’t resist pushing him one more time. “Yeah, and what makes you think you won’t have a little accident while you’re down there? Lots of demons I could blame it on.”

The Slayer starts to towards me, but Finn puts a hand on her arm, and she stops abruptly, frustration and anger clear on her face. “It’s okay Buffy, I’m a big boy, remember?” She stands rigid for a moment, her instincts and emotions at war and then finally her shoulders slump and she nods tiredly. Soldier boy rubs her arm gently, soothing the tension away and then looks back at me. “Nice try, Spike. But just you saying it tells me that you won’t, though it could be a double bluff. Guess I’ll just have to take my chances and haunt you while you explain to Buffy and Xander what happened.”

“Fighting dirty, solider. Maybe you and me will get along after all.” I hold his gaze for a moment and eventually he drops his eyes. Good to know he understands the chain of command on this little picnic. “Right then, time’s a-wasting. Let’s go kick some robo butt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **A/N**  
>  All dialogue from Primeval respectively borrowed and adapted courtesy of buffy transcripts found here <http://www.buffy-vs-angel.com/guide.shtml>. Just saying in case any one thought I was cracked enough to come up with the idea of a 'Uranium extracting spell' off my own bat *g*


	26. Realisations 25; Pandora's Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang go after Adam and Spike and Riley bond – no really!

_  
**Realisations 25; Pandora's Box**   
_   


“Right then, soldier boy, let’s get this show on the road.” I don’t wait for his answer, just turn and start down the left hand tunnel towards the back door that leads to the cell block. I hear a sigh behind me, but don’t look round. If I look round I’ll see the crossroads where the other tunnel leads off, where my boy is going with his mates. If I look round, I’ll turn tail and go after him and sod the consequences for everything else, baby demons or not. So I’ll keep going. Get in. Do what’s needed. Get out. Collect Xander and get the hell away from this god forsaken place before something else can suck him back in.

There’s another sigh and it’s beginning to get on my nerves. “What the hell are you sighing for? You sound like some bloody damsel in distress, huffing and puffing back there. Either say what’s on your mind, or shut up.”

He grabs me by the elbow, trying to pull me round and I stop and stiffen, but that’s all he’s getting. He won’t make me turn round. “Better watch yourself, soldier boy. Not chipped now, remember. If you feel like playing call my bluff, go for it. We’ll see who wins.”

The pressure eases on my arm and then it’s gone, but just as I’m about to start moving again, he’s round the front, right in my face. “See, you’re doing it again. ‘Solider boy’, you say it like it’s some kind of cuss word. Like I’m some kind of pond life, or something you picked up on your shoe. I am a soldier, or at least I was. A damn good one and I’m proud of my achievements.” I raise an eyebrow at him and look around me pointedly. We’re right in front of the door now, and we both know what’s behind there. “Okay, I’m proud of most of my achievements. This isn’t one of them and at least I admit it. But a little respect, Spike, that’s all I’m asking for. We could both get ourselves killed in the next 15 minutes, so I’d rather not die kicking myself for making the wrong decision in coming down here with you.”

“You’ve got some balls, Finn, I’ll give you that.” I hold his gaze for a moment and then nod. “Right then, let’s get this little shin dig under way, shall we?”

He gestures his thumb towards the door. “If we can get in. I used my override key to get us out last time, but they’re bound to have disabled that by now.”

“Don’t worry, soldier, I do my homework before I go to work, or at least I do when I’m serious.” Rummaging around in my pocket I fish out my fag packet, my Zippo, an oily rag, a battered tube of lube and I know he’s watching me with increasing exasperation. I grab his hands, pushing them together ‘til they form a makeshift cup and he’s staring at me in confusion as I dump the detritus into his hand and have another rummage. Bingo there it is, a small strip of plastic and I wave it in front of his face triumphantly. “One spanking new Initiative key card courtesy of our boy Adam. Helps to have an in with the bosses, yeah?”

He shoves the crap in his hand back towards me, grabs the key card and moves towards the heavy steel door. I redistribute most of the booty in various pockets in my duster and stand for a moment, lighting a fag and take a long pull while I watch the solider. There’s a loud click as he swipes the card through the slot at the top of the keypad and the whir of hydraulics as the door starts to move.

Finn’s looking nervous as the door comes to a halt and I don’t blame him but I’m damned if I’m going to show it. “Open Sesame. Now let’s seem if we can find a special on magic lamps.”

*************************

Don’t look back. Not looking back. This is the Xan-man determinedly not looking back. Look forward. Focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Get in. Do the spell. Get rid of the bad guy. Get out. Simple as a really simple thing, only not. I really hate it when there’s magic to be done. I know, living on the Hellmouth, you can’t ignore the whole mojo thing, but usually it just means holding Giles or Willow’s coat while they wave some herbs around and mutter in Latin. I don’t usually get involved, ‘cause me and magic leads to burning books and getting chased by hordes of girls, and Spike really has changed me when that’s an image that totally scares the shit out of me.

Giles stops abruptly in front of me and it’s all I can do to avoid crashing into his back as I mentally kick myself for daydreaming. Got to pay attention now. The sooner we do this, the sooner we’ll be finished. “So why have we stopped?”

I look around and realise that sometime while I was having my mental meltdown, the rough walls of the tunnel have changed into polished metal and the floor is smooth and shiny like it’s hardly been walked on. There’s strip lighting at regular intervals high up on the walls, creating weird shadows and unexpected angles. “So, this is nice. Very, ‘early German expressionist meets 2001’ vibe. It’s a bit stark, but that’s all part of its charm. A couple of pictures, the odd throw rug and I’m sure you’re average crazy megalomaniac would feel right at home.”

Giles gives me an odd look, like he’s wondering if I even know what German Expressionism is. Watching Nosferatu with Spike was a hoot, even though he kept pointing out all the stuff they got wrong. “Xander, I’m not even going to ask! According to Spike’s instructions, we should be very near to where Adam has set up his operations. This is where Spike was supposed to deliver Buffy, but not for another few hours. We’re going to set up the spell here and then Buffy’s going after Adam. You know what you have to do, yes?”

“Sure, Giles, I’m good to go.” I give him a grin and glance over at Willow. She’s already setting up candles and breaking out the herbs. Nice to know that some things won’t ever change. Buffy’s watching the proceedings, chewing on her lip like she’s psyching herself up for the fight to come. I walk towards her and give her a quick hug and am surprised at the intensity of the hug in return. “You’ll be fine, Buff. We’ll do the mojo, power you up and you’ll go in and kick some butt. It’s a no brainer.”

She smiles tiredly, but she still looks worried. “Aren’t you even a little freaked about this? Not about the kicking butt, bit. I’m all about the butt kicking. But this spell. Us getting in each other’s heads. Doesn’t it make you nervous?”

“Well, when you put it like that! I don’t like magic, so yeah, I’m nervous. But I’m not scared about the ‘getting in each other’s heads’ bit. There’s nothing in mine - and that so came out the wrong way.” She grins at me and it’s nice to see the frown line disappear. “I mean, I’ve got nothing to hide from you guys. You can walk around inside my head all day and you won’t find anything that will surprise you. I love you Buff, and I love Willow and I love Giles, but in a purely manly fashion. That’s what powers the spell – how we feel about each other. Even on our bad days, the feelings are still there and that’s something Adam won’t ever be able to touch.”

She smiles again, stands on tiptoe and gives me the softest kiss on the cheek before stepping away. “There you go, being all insightful and responsible again. If you keep this up, the rest of us might have to grow up as well!” I want to say something but she shakes her head and turns back to the others. “Right Giles, if you’re ready, I’m going in. I just want this done.”

Giles looks up at her from his position cross legged on the floor beside Willow and I sink down beside him, listening as he gives her instructions. “I believe we’re ready, Buffy. It will take a short time to incant the spell, but it should be complete in no more than five minutes. We will try to hold the power as long as we can, but be prepared to take the first opportunity which presents itself.”

“Sure, Giles. Good luck guys.” Then she’s gone and Willow starts to chant.

****************************

We ease through the door, leaving the relative safety of the tunnels behind, and the cell block is just like I remembered, but on acid. Every cell is crammed full and it’s like the bastards had no idea what they were doing – putting predator in with prey, demons in heat in with potential mates – bloody scientists, they’ve got no bloody clue. “Right, we’ve got one chance. This key card should do the trick with the cell doors – nice to have a crazy ally that thinks of these things, so let’s get in and get out.”

The soldier boy is at my back, his hand on his weapon and I’m not sure if that’s a comfort or not. “What are you actually planning to do? You can’t just let them all go. Some of them are dangerous.”

Knew he was smarter than he acted. “Pick the peaceful demons and the powerful ones – the ones I can use later. The bastards can stay where they are. Don’t give a shit about them.” He looks a bit shocked, then nods. “There’s a pecking order, soldier. A hierarchy, just like any civilised society. Let’s just say we’re doing a bit of genetic selection.” He looks a bit sick, but it’s obvious he sees the sense in it. “Watch the door. With the camo gear, it’s not like these guys are going to trust you and you don’t speak the lingo. Play look out at the door out to the main corridor and keep an eye out for patrols. Let me deal here, yeah?”

He wants to object, I can see it in his face, but he sees the sense in the argument and moves towards the outer door at the top of the cells. “All clear, let’s get on with it.”

I move down the rows of cells, swiping the card and letting out the occupants. Nasolas – nodding their head and running for the exit back into the tunnels when I indicate the way. Pockla – nice to have a few markers with that one if I ever need a healing spell. Vampire – I consider letting him rot, but he’s more than a fledge – been around a while, even got the potential to be a Master if he’s careful, so I play the pragmatic card and open the door. The soldier is eyeing the perimeter, glancing back and I can see the frustration building as I stand by every door, playing God with some bastard demon’s future. Maybe he now knows how I felt when someone played God with me.

“Spike, remember the patrols. Every 15 minutes. I don’t think they’ll have changed their habits that much since we were last here. We don’t have much time.”

Not far to go now and I pause at the cell with the babies in it. They’re huddled in a corner, chirping to themselves like it’s some form of comfort, but the stench of fear is oozing off them with every breath fanning through their matted fur. Opening the door, I pause for a moment, letting them see that the barrier has gone and they stand up slowly, still glued together like Siamese twins, and they watch me warily. Can’t say I blame them. “Come on you two. Got stuff to do. Folk to beat on. Get yourself out of here while you can.” They continue to stand, staring like they’re not sure what to do and finally I take hold of one small claw and pull gently, leading him forward and the other one follows. There’s a Parohal demon passing the cell, its blue pelt almost neon in the artificial light and I grab one of its hands. “Get these two to the surface, will you? Make sure they make it back to their clan, yeah? I’ll owe you if you do.” The git looks stunned for a moment and then nods vigorously and grabs both babies with one big hand and pulls them away. Right then, job done, and the tattered thread of William’s conscience is clear.

I start down the other side of the corridor, opening doors and feeling like some bloody Roman Emperor deciding who gets to live. I can hear the soldier shuffling as he watches the door. Glancing back quickly, I realise I’m wrong – he’s not watching the door, he’s watching me. “Spike, you know that crap with Giles about doing this because you wanted the markers?”

“Yeah?” I wonder where he’s going with this.

“Well, that’s what I think it is – crap. You’re doing this for Xander. He wanted the babies out and that’s what you’re doing. Some big bad - whipped by your human boyfriend.”

Bugger, and here was me thinking it was a damn good cover. “And you’re not Slayer- whipped, soldier boy?”

He grins and glances back towards the door. “Never said I wasn’t. I try to do what’s right. It just kind of surprises me to see you doing the same.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’ll tell you more about demons than you expected. That we’re capable of love and loyalty.”

“I think I’m beginning to get that. Although it’s going to take me a while to cope with the whole ‘jump to the left’ perspective.”

“Perhaps you and my boy aren’t so far apart as I might have thought.” He raises his eyebrows and looks curious while I continue down the line of cells. He’s looking at his watch and I know we don’t have much time, but for some reason this conversation seems important even if I’m having to multi-task. “You and Xander, you aren’t that different. Got your world view shattered when you realised that not everything was black and white. You’ve both got the whole Semper Fi thing going on.”

He interrupts and I swear I would hit him if it wouldn’t eat into the little time we’ve got left. “I’m not a Marine, Spike. I think you’ve got the wrong motto there.”

Christ, American’s, they’ve got no sense of fucking history. “The motto was around a lot longer than blokes with crewcuts, soldier. ‘Always faithful’, been the watchword for families, as long as there’s been an Aurelius line around to eat them. You and Xander – you’re both loyal to a fault. You both love the Slayer to the point that it might get you killed, even though you both now know she’s not perfect. You’re both fighting to right wrongs, even though you could be running in the other direction. You’re both so fucking human, it drives me round the bend.”

The soldier is staring at me and I’m not sure where this conversation is going and from the banging still coming from the cells it looks like it’s going to get cut short. I glance at my watch – 3 minutes ‘til the next patrol. “Right then, time to cut and run.”

Finn looks at the door and then back at the demons still trapped in their prisons and I can anticipate the move when he tries to grab the key card out of my hand. Twisting out of his grasp, I pivot round and push his arm up his back, forcing him to his knees. “Don’t push it, soldier. Know you’re a convert to the new outlook in life, but don’t take it too far. You open any of those doors and you’re a dead man and I’m not being responsible for telling Buffy how you died.” He’s breathing hard, but he nods and I let go and he staggers back to his feet. I start down the corridor heading for the door, not looking to see if he’s following when I hear the echo of a wail in my head and a bolt of pain roars through my body. “Xander!” I scream at the sensation and clutch at my chest like someone’s just ripped out my heart.

*********************

The candles flicker as Willow begins her spell. There’s a faint breeze and I can feel a trickle of cold sweat meander down my back as I watch Willow pick up the faded cards and start to chant. _“The powers of the Slayer and all who yield it. Last to ancient first, we invoke thee. Grant us thy domain and primal strength. Accept us in the power we possess. Make us mind and heart and spirit joy. Let the hand encompass us. Do thy will.”_

The breeze gets stronger and the candles flare, casting surreal shadows on metal walls and out of the corner of my eye I could swear I glimpsed the huge shadow of a girl, crouched down like she’s watching us. Then Willow starts to deal the cards and the moment’s gone. _“Spiritus…Spirit”._ Willow’s face glows in the reflection of the dancing flames. _“Animus…Heart.”_ I feel myself start to float and suddenly it feels like I’m looking down on us and right into the eyes of the shadow girl. Willow echoes in my head. _“Sophus…Mind.”_ Giles’ hands are rigid over his knees, his knuckles white, like he’s hanging on for dear life. _“Manus…Hand. We enjoin that we may inhabit the vessel – the hand…daughter of Sineya…first of the ones.”_ I can see Buffy, she’s so small and far away, but her back is straight and she’s moving with such grace and beauty, she takes my breath away. The wind gets higher and I’m flying in my head. _“We implore you…take us to the vessel…take us now.”_

Buffy faces Adam, taunting him. His face is impassive and he seems to have a countermove for every move that Buffy makes. Two bodies lie crumpled in the corner - white coats and some kind of back pack – their necks are at strange angles and they’re ignored as the fight begins in earnest. Buffy turns and kicks him in a move that would floor any vamp, but he grabs her by the foot and throws her away. I want to shout, but she can’t see me and I feel the phantom wind rush past my face as she tries again. She punches him hard and her small hand bounces off like she’s hitting a heavy bag. I can feel Willow and Giles in the back of my mind, like they’re wandering in distant corridors, calling to me, but my focus is on the fight and I try to will the spell to trigger. A spine appears out of Adam’s arm and Buffy grabs it, breaking it with her knee and I watch in horror as a gun appears out of the hole. Adam grins ferally and starts to shoot and I’m willing Buffy to run and she does, diving behind a console as bullets rain down around her.

I’m screaming in my head, shouting for Willow and Giles, begging them for help and through the noise I hear finally hear Willow chanting. _“We implore you…take us to the vessel…take us now.”_ A long wail, echoes through my head and I feel like I’m being hit by lightening.

We rise from the ruins of the shattered console and raise our hand. The bullets splinter and drop like summer rain and for the first time the expression on Adam’s face is doubt. I can feel Giles and Willow at my shoulder as we walk towards our enemy and he starts to take a step back. We start to chant and I realise I am hearing us all in one voice. Adam fires again, but nothing can touch us now and when he launches himself with all his power, we parry every blow like we’re toying with a fledge. There’s a part of me, standing outside watching, feeling the energy flowing through my veins and I realise this is what it feels like to have powers.

Adam is struggling now and we have him pushed back against the wall, his face a mask of confusion as we leans over him. “You could never understand the source of our power. That’s why you lose.” We plunge our hand into his chest and twist as we pulls out his core and his body slumps to the ground in a tangle of patchwork limbs. We lift up the uranium like we’re saluting and then it’s gone, vanished into the ether on a wave of magic and power.

There’s whispering in my mind as I watch Buffy stand amongst the carnage and there’s a flash of images running through my head like a home made movie. Spike in the cell block, with the baby demons, Riley keeping watch. Ethan drawing a pentagram. Willow kissing a girl I don’t recognise. Oz playing guitar. Giles laughing as he chants a spell. Willow riding her bike and grinning at Jesse. Buffy picking her books off the floor and leaving me staring at a small, wooden stake. Back and back and back and I feel like I’m falling. There’s a pounding of drums and the shadow of some old men watching a girl. I take a breath and try to shout, but she’s so close now and I can see matted hair and skin streaked with black and white and chains round her wrists that fall away as she crawls towards me. I try to back away, but she’s too quick and her expression is savage as she reaches for me. I want to scream, but there’s nothing. Then everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> Dialogue from Primeval courtesy of <http://www.buffy-vs-angel.com/buffy_tran_77.shtml>


	27. Realisations 26: Ariadne's Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Riley run into a problem. Spike solves it! Riley isn't happy...

_  
**Realisations 26: Ariadne's Thread**   
_   


  


“Spike! Come on, Spike, what the hell is going on?”

Finn is shaking my shoulder, his words sharp and insistent and for a moment I’ve no idea what’s happening. No idea how I finished up half on my knees, my hands struggling to find a grip on the shiny metal walls. Then it comes back - the wail in my head, the feeling of phantom pain in my chest like something was clawing at me. I look up at Finn and his eyes are wide and questioning, his hands gripped, white knuckled, on his weapon like it’s the only security he’s got in this god-forsaken place. “Xander. I felt him. He’s in trouble.”

I struggle to my feet, the soldier’s hand at my elbow. “We’ve got to go. Got to get moving. Now!”

“Spike, what the hell are you talking about? What do you mean, Xander’s in trouble?”

“I don’t know how. Just know. Felt it, didn’t I? Come on, times-a-wasting. If my boy needs help, chances are the others do as well.”

I turn away and start to run down the corridor before he can argue. My duster’s flapping, and if my boy was here he’d be making some joke about Dracula and bats, but right now I don’t give a shit what I look like. Just know I need to get to him. The door back to the tunnels is a good 30 yards away, but in the harsh, unforgiving light of the cellblock it looks like a mile. I can hear Finn’s boots clunking on the hard floor as he catches up and he grabs at my arm for a moment and then just as quickly let’s go. “Okay, Spike, you got me. We’ll leave the weird, mystical crap to the side for the moment. Rescue missions are something I can do, but afterwards, you and I are going to have a little talk.”

I glance back over my shoulder at him. “Yeah, whatever.”

“We’re almost back at the door when I hear the rhythm of footsteps marching in time. Soldier boy’s at my side and from the expression on his face, looks like he’s heard it too. I glance round, but it’s all shiny and bright, not a dark corner in sight. His hand is on my elbow and this time he doesn’t let go as he starts to whisper in my ear. “Shit, they’ve started patrolling the tunnels. They never bothered before. I guess we gave them a fright when I used my over-ride code to get out last time and rescued Oz.” I can feel his breath, warm against my ear as he continues. “There’s no way to avoid them and we haven’t got time to turn round and get out of sight. We’re going to have to bluff our way through. Remember the plan from before? I’m on a delivery mission to another part of the complex and you’re the package, okay?”

I nod once. It was a crap plan then and it’s a crap plan now, but it’s all we’ve got right now.

We continue forward and the marching is so loud now. Just a few seconds and we’ll be on them and there’s no turning back. Close…closer…closest, and then they’re there in the door way, coming our way. Some of the cells nearest the door still contain a couple of the nastier demons so we might get away with it, but I’d rather have got out into the tunnels before we met, away from the evidence of the empty cells behind us. Oh well, too late now. We’re just feet from the door when we stop and angle ourselves so that the soldiers will be eyeballing us and not what lies at our back. Finn’s got his weapon stuck in my side and we wait as the patrol stops in front of us.

I can almost feel Finn at my shoulder drawing himself to his full height; all of sudden, every inch the officer. “Patrol, report?”

Looking at the soldiers in the patrol, I realise that they’re barely more than kids. Fresh out of boot camp and cutting their teeth by marching round the perimeters. I remember Finn saying that the rookie’s always cop for patrol, that none of the regulars want the detail. Hopefully that will work in our favour. One of them steps forward and executes a crisp salute. That’s it, boy, you’re a grunt, he’s an officer, so you know what to do. “Private Meyers, sir. Everything’s quiet, sir.”

“At ease, Private. I heard there was some unrest out in the northern quadrant. It needs checking out.” There’s a real authority to his voice and as he moves out from behind me, still keeping his weapon raised, I have to take my hat off to him. He knows what he needs to do to keep their attention, using every inch of his training to lure them into taking the bait.

“Sir, yes, sir. We’ll get right on that, sir.” He steps back into formation and then looks up at Finn. “Can I ask where you’re taking the hostile, sir? I have to log all movements for the files.”

He sounds almost apologetic, like he can’t believe he’s questioning an officer, but Finn just nods like it’s the most reasonable question in the world. “He’s wanted in one of the new labs. Don’t worry, I’ll write up the file once I’m done. Now get going.”

“Yes, sir.” He salutes again and smiles briefly, obviously relieved to have encountered an officer who's actually reasonable. He turns to go, and the patrol moves in time, but then he stop suddenly as his angle changes and he stares, registering the sight of the empty cells behind us. Oh bollocks, we almost made it. “Sir?” His voice is unsteady now and he’s swallowing hard as he looks round us. “Where are the rest of the hostiles?”

That’s it, we’re done. The game’s up and we’re done play acting. I move into game face, momentarily distracting him and then push forward, punching the kid right on the underside of the jaw and he drops like a stone. The others stand and stare for a moment like they’re not sure what they’ve just seen, but it only lasts for an instant and then it’s all hands to the pump. There’s only six of them against two and normally I’d be howling at the moon at the thought of a good scrap, but my boy needs me and I haven’t got the time to play. I look across and Finn is in the thick of it. Weapons are drawn now and there’s bullets flying all over the place – not hitting anything but the walls but that’s dangerous enough in this glass and metal box. Christ, these kids are green. If they had any experience, they’d just have stood back and picked us off, but they panicked when they saw a pair of fangs up close and not behind a glass door. One bullet flies past my ear. That’s it, got to stop this now. I’ve still got the plastic keycard in my hand from before and I dive for the nearest occupied cell. Sepavro – brilliant! I release the lock, grab Finn by his collar and drag him backwards as one pissed off demon lumbers into the corridor and right into the path of the soldiers. I’m running now, back through the cells, back past the cell where the babies were kept, back past where the Nasalos were locked up. Deeper and deeper into the complex, opening up doors and releasing any remaining demons as I go. The way through the tunnels isn’t an option now, so I grit my teeth and continue further into the labyrinth. I hear screaming echoing through the corridor by the tunnels and the sound of gunfire splintering off the metal walls and I keep going. Finn’s struggling along behind me, trying to twist out of his jacket but my grip's too strong for him to resist and he’s finally getting to realise just how puny a human is against a demon when the chips are down. At last we get to the inner door of the cell block and I stop for a moment and release my hold. “Right then, last time we played this little game, you took us from 314 to the cells. Now we’re going to retrace the steps, yeah?”

He’s staring at me, gasping for breath, and then glances back towards the sounds of chaos. “You wouldn’t let me release them before so they could take their chances like the other demons. But you used them as a weapon?”

His voice is loaded with accusation and disgust but I don’t have time to coddle his feelings right now. “When you’re at war, sometimes you have to improvise. Use whatever tools come to hand. You know that, soldier. We had to get out of there. We have to get to the Slayer, or have you forgotten about her?” Don’t give a rat’s arse about the Slayer, but words can be weapons too, and that one hit the soldier right where it hurts. “The minute we were rumbled we ran out of options. Now get your arse in gear and let’s get on with it. Might already be too late.” I hate the idea of even voicing the thought, but the idea seems to do the trick and with one long last look back down the cells, he moves off and I follow, but I think the fledging détente has taken a bit of a beating.


	28. Realisations 27: Monkeys and Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang want out of the Initiative

_  
**Realisations 27: Monkeys and Bones**   
_   


I come to, slowly, consciousness coming back in increments – first touch, then hearing and finally sight. The light is harsh and unforgiving and for a moment I can’t work out where I am, or what happened. I roll onto my side cautiously and see Willow and Giles lying on the floor about 10 feet away. Their eyes are closed, like they’re sleeping, but there’s no peace on their faces and as I crawl towards them, Willow makes a strangled whine like she’s caught in a nightmare, and it all comes crashing back – the shadow girl, the old men, the sound of the drum and me running from something on the hunt - calling out for Spike when there’s nowhere left to hide, before she kills me. I clutch at my chest, the memory of the phantom pain clear in my head and I’m fighting for breath as the memories threaten to overwhelm me.

Willow’s whimpering now and I force my memories back and crawl the last few feet and start to shake her. “Wills, you’ve got to wake up. It’s me. Can you hear me Willow? You’re having a dream. Wake up.” She’s trying to pull away from me, but I hold tight to her arm, repeating her name, trying to call her back. It’s only a few minutes, but it seems like eternity ‘til I feel her stir under my hand and I brush my fingers lightly through her hair as she opens her eyes and looks up at me and the knot in the bottom of my gut begins to loosen. “Hey. Welcome back.”

“Xander?” She looks confused for a moment and then her brain kicks into gear. “I though I died. You were there.” There’s an edge of hysteria in her voice as she stares at me. “You sat there while she killed me. You sat there and watched!.”

I take her hand and squeeze lightly. “And that’s why you know that it wasn’t real. Do you really think I’d sit there if you were in trouble?”

She has the grace to blush before shaking her head. “No, I know you wouldn’t. It’s just…it was so real. It felt real.”

“I know. Too real.”

She looks up at me sharply. “What do you mean? How do you know?”

“I was dreaming too. About a girl. About being hunted. About being killed.” She looks almost intrigued and I see her analytical mind absorbing the implications of this new knowledge. “You being killed while your friends sat back and watched, me dying alone in a basement – what do you think that says about us?”

She’s nodding slowly as she thinks things over. “Our fears personified.” She looks over at Giles, at the pain etched on his face, and reaches out to grasp his shoulder, shaking gently at first and then harder when he doesn’t respond. “Giles, it’s Willow. Wake up. Whatever’s happening isn’t real. It’s a dream, it’s just a dream.” She shakes him again and then sits back as he starts to stir.

It’s strange watching Giles wake up. Almost too intimate, but I guess we’ve all been in each other’s heads and that’s as personal as it gets. He groans and clutches at his head as he pushes himself up and onto his knees. “That bloody hurt.”

I can’t help laughing, he sounds so much like Spike when he’s in a mood, but I’ll probably keep that little gem to myself. Giles looks up, staring like he’s just noticed he’s got company. “Well that was…interesting, but I rather think we’ll avoid that particular spell in the future.”

“Sure thing, Giles, you won’t hear any arguments from me on that one.” I grin at him and struggle up from my knees, watching as Willow and Giles follow suit. I want to ask Giles about his dream, but before I can start, there’s the sound from the corridor, boots slapping hard on metal, and I Iook at Giles in alarm. “We’re too exposed here. If it’s the Initiative, I don’t know what the hell we’re going to say to them. We need to get Buffy and get out of here.”

Giles is obviously thinking the same thing, but it’s too late to say anything else as the door bursts open and I can only stare as Spike comes barrelling into the room, followed by an out of breath Riley. Okay, that was unexpected. “Spike?”

Two steps and he’s right in front of me, running his hands over my chest and arms while his eyes scan down length of my body. Finally he stops and brings his hand up to push the hair back from my forehead and I’m conscious that we’ve got an audience, but stay still until he’s finished. “You okay, love?”

I nod slowly and reach up to grasp the hand in my hair, pulling it down, but holding on tight and I’m surprised to feel him shaking. “I’m fine. We did the spell and beat the bad guy. It’s all good”

“Xander, I kind of think you missed out something.” Trust Wills to have a bout of honesty. She never could keep a secret.

Spike turns and stares at her until she blushes again and starts talking. “He missed out the bit where some weird girl killed us in our dreams.”

Shit. “Umm, I didn’t want to worry you, but obviously you’re all about the worrying. It was just a dream – no big. We’re all here, all parts attached, so I’d call that a win.” I’m not sure how I know that he’s not happy – maybe it's the fact that he’s flickering in and out of game face and growling softly, so I try again. “Spike, I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

“Don’t give a rat’s arse about anyone else, pet. Care about you. I felt you. I don’t know how and I don’t really care. You were in pain – screaming. I heard you screaming in my head.”

I squeeze his hand tightly. “I’m sorry I worried you, but thank you for the whole cavalry deal. I called you in my dream and you came.”

“I’ll always come, love.” Now it’s my turn to blush.

Giles clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. “Touching as Spike’s concern is, I think it would be better if we relocated somewhere less conspicuous.”

“Can’t disagree with you there, Watcher, but you and I will be having words about involving my boy in a spell with side effects. Dreams aren’t to be messed with, learned that from Dru.”

“Yes, well, that’s as maybe. For now, I think we should find Buffy and get out off here.”

“Consider me found.” We all turn round at the sound of her voice and she smiles and waves. “Weird question, but did anyone else have a dream about some freaky chick trying to kill you?”

I reach over and give her hand a quick squeeze in solidarity. “In our case, Buff, she actually got with the killing. Your chosenness obviously extends to your dreams as well.”

She wrinkles her nose like she’s just smelled something nasty. “And don’t I feel special? She seriously needed a day in the salon.” She turns to Giles and smiles sunnily and for a moment it feels like the room got even brighter. “So, what’s next?”

Riley’s been standing back from the gang, watching the action, but at Buffy’s question he steps forward and clears his throat. “Hmm, guys, I don’t want to be a kill joy, but there are a pile of demons with a lot of attitude wandering about. Maybe we should save the reunion speeches for later.”

That’s got Buffy’s attention. “Demons? I thought you and Spike where going to deal with the demons in the cells?”

“So we did, Slayer. Got most of them out, even the babies.” I glance over at Spike and give him my best smile and get a grin in return. "But we had a bit of trouble and like the soldier boy says, some of the ones with an attitude are loose. So we can’t go out the way we came in.” I’m watching Riley’s body language as Spike is talking and there’s definitely something else going on, but it’s going to have to wait.

Buffy looks between the two off them; seems like I’m not the only one picking up the subtext, but it looks like she’s leaving it along for now as she turns back to her ex. “Riley, can you get us out? You’re the one with the local knowledge in here.”

“I can do that. Let’s get going.” He turns and heads for the door, looking back to make sure everyone’s following him. Buffy’s right behind him, guarding his back, then Willow and Giles, with Spike and me bringing up the rear. Spike pushes me slightly in front of him and for one absurd moment I feel like we should all be holding a rope like we did on kindergarten outings.

The corridor is empty and everything seems quiet. I cross my fingers that our luck holds and for the next five minutes it seems like it really might happen. I’m aware of Spike humming softly at my back and the tune seems oddly familiar, but my head is fuzzy in the aftermath of the spell and the dream and I can’t quite place it. My curiosity piqued, I slow down ‘til we’re walking shoulder to shoulder. “What are you doing?”

He’s got that ‘who me’ expression on his face. “What do you mean, pet?”

“That noise – you’re humming. We’re trying to escape from a secret government complex; we’ve just done a big spell, killed the bad guy, been murdered in our dreams and there are some pretty pissed demons on the loose – and you’re humming. It’s…it’s disturbing!”

“It’s called ‘irony’, love.”

“The tune? Nope, I kind of recognise it, but can’t quite remember, but it’s definitely not called ‘Irony’.”

“Git! It’s the theme from 2001 – actually it’s ‘Thus Spoke Zarathustra’ by Richard Strauss, but you probably recognise it from the movie. This whole farce, it got me thinking about monkeys with weapons. That’s all this bloody outfit is, just another group of apes waving their bones about.”

“Okay, that’s profound – freaky, but profound.” I glance across at him and he does the eyebrow thing. “What’s going on between you and Riley? I know there’s more than you’re letting on.”

If possible the eyebrow goes even higher. “Let’s just say the soldier and I had a difference of opinion on the best way to plan a tactical retreat.”

“So you did what you wanted and didn’t give him a chance to argue?”

He grins at me wickedly, looking like a school boy who’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You know me so well, love.”

I grin back at him. “Scary, isn’t it!”

We’ve fallen slightly behind while we’ve been talking and as I look away from Spike I realise that the gang have stopped at an intersection and there’s a strange noise coming from the right hand corridor. “What’s going on?”

I realise that I was louder than I intended when Riley puts his fingers to his lips and glares at me as he whispers, “There’s a disturbance in the main area.”

“But we’re going the other way, right?” The expression on Riley’s face says it all and really I should know better. “Of course we’re not going the other way. That would be far too straight forward!”

He smiles just for a second. “Got it in one. The only way out from this end is the main elevator to Lowell House and it’s right down there.”

Okay, I just had to ask the question. “Perfect, just perfect.”

Riley takes another cautious look around the corner and then turns back to us. “Right we keep in formation. No lagging behind and at the first sign of trouble, we run for it!” Okay, running, I can so do running.

We move off again and the noises get louder the closer we get. Finally we reach the mouth of the corridor and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I’ve never read Dante, but I imagine one of his hells might look like this. Demons ripping the place apart, shredding metal railings, tearing them like tissue paper while Initiative soldiers try to hold them back with automatic weapons. There’s a scientist struggling in the hold of a Fyarl, his feet dangling uselessly off the floor as the monster smashes his fragile body off a concrete pillar. Blood drips slowly down the wall to the side of us and lands on a pile of white-coated bodies crumpled on the ground.

Spike places his hand on my shoulder, but I notice that he’s watching Riley as he speaks. “Looks like the nasties took the express route up from the cell block.”

Riley shoots him a look and I intervene before things get even more out of hand. “We’ve got to help them. The soldiers, I mean.”

Spike shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on Riley. “Too late for that, love. We stay here, we die! Simple as that. It’s too far gone. The scientists and the soldiers wanted to play with the Hellmouth nightlife. Now the nightlife want their turn. Needs to reach its natural conclusion. It’s like I said – monkeys and bones, survival of the fittest.”

I glance across at the others and Buffy’s face is so pale as she watches the chaos. But then she sighs and nods her head. “Spike’s right. It’s about survival now. If we stay much longer we’re going to end up in bits. I hate to say it but there’s nothing we can do.” Riley looks like he’s going to protest, but she puts her hand on his arm and looks up at him and his shoulders slump in defeat. “Riley, get everyone to the elevator. Do whatever you need to, to keep them safe. Spike and I will bring up the rear and play defence.” She’s using her best ‘don’t argue with me’ tone so Riley nods, even thought I can see he doesn’t want to leave her with Spike.

Spike gives my shoulder another squeeze and then pushes me forward. “Be right behind you, pet. Keep your eyes peeled and don’t look back. It ain’t pretty.”

I don’t want to go, but I know that he’s right and I follow Riley when he moves forward. I’m watching his back and his body language as he reverts to being the soldier, skirting the perimeter, using every bit of broken equipment and body as cover, and we’re right behind him. There’s a Separvo fighting with a Morah, both covered in blood as they scrap over the body parts of a dismembered soldier at their feet. I think I’m going to be sick when I see his head lying at the bottom of the stairs, like it’s been thrown there is some crazed football game. I ease passed it, trying to keep my eyes averted and I can hear Willow retching as Riley urges us forward.

The noise is deafening, the air full of screaming and gunfire and animalistic roars as the demons take control. I can see the elevators up ahead, so close now and as I look back to check that Spike and Buffy are still behind me, I freeze. Spike is in full flow, coat billowing as he spins and kicks, taking out anything that threatens our passage. His face is almost feral as he breaks the neck of the Fyarl in one sharp, vicious movement and if I didn’t love him I think I’d be terrified right now. Buffy is at his side, power and grace in every movement, doing what she was born to do and between them, they are unstoppable.

I realise I must have been standing watching for a while when Riley grabs at my arm. “Come on, we have to go. They have our backs. We need to take advantage of that.” He pulls me forward and I allow myself one last glance back, reassured to see Spike and Buffy moving in our direction, still taking out anything that gets in the way. Finally, we reach the elevator doors and I pray to anyone that would answer on the Hellmouth that the thing is working, and for once my prayers are heard. Riley hustles us inside and as I turn I can see Spike running towards us, Buffy at his side, every inch the warriors, and for a moment I feel a stab of jealousy. But it’s just for a moment before Spike is right in my face, pressing my back against the hard metal wall and kissing me ‘til I’m dizzy. I’m vaguely conscious of the lift moving upwards, but my focus is on the taste and feel and smell of Spike and for the first time in what feels like hours I start to think like we might actually make it.

The elevator lumbers to a halt and we stagger out of the little metal box and into the relative normality of the frat house. It’s so quiet, but I suppose it would be considering all the inhabitants are with the Initiative. There’s no consultation, but in unspoken agreement we hurry through the empty halls and out into a fragrant Californian twilight. I look around, slightly bewildered after the stress of the previous hours. Students are wandering about, talking about assignments and the ball game, eating pizza and drinking beer and ignoring us. The frat is on the top of a hellish science experiment and they’re acting like all’s right with the world. It’s so Sunnydale and I feel the hysteria start to bubble up inside me and finally erupt in a serious of high pitched giggles which quickly turn into tears. Spike’s got one arm round my waist and the other rubbing circles in my back as I try to calm down. I bury my nose in the comforting smell of leather as the shakes subside and look over Spike’s shoulder to see Buffy and Giles moving towards me, concern and shock clear on their faces, but Spike’s growling like a big mama bear and they start to back off, recognising a battle that can’t be won.. Riley is looking at his feet, like he’s embarrassed by the show of emotion, and as I catch Willow’s eye, I realise I can’t read her expression at all.

Finally I ease out of Spike’s grip and smile weakly. “Sorry about that. Kind of lost it for a minute. Stupid, huh?”

Spike pulls me back to face him and his voice is soft as velvet, but hard as steel. “Told you before, love. You’re not stupid. Considering what just happened I’m surprised we’re not all basket cases by now.” He glares round at everyone like he’s daring them to argue and then grabs my hand and squeezes gently. “Right, let’s get out of here before some other git tries to take over the world. I don’t care about you lot, but I want a fag, a beer, a bath and a bloody good shag, and right now I really don’t care about the order.”

That’s my Spike - we may have saved the world again, but my vampire’s got priorities all of his own.


	29. Realisations 28: The Ties that Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the day before

_  
**Realisations 28: The Ties that Bind**   
_   


You’d think the fact that we’ve just saved the world again, killed the bad guy and shut down a secret, experimental, government project, would call for a bit of a celebration, but even after a night’s sleep, or in our case, not so much with the sleep, we’re all too shattered to do more than sit around listlessly, staring at our feet and sipping on Giles’ Earl Grey. He did rustle up some breakfast – not exactly haute cuisine – just toast and bacon and stuff, but for once I wasn’t really hungry and a certain vamp stole most of it off my plate when he thought I wasn’t looking. Now, as I inhale the scent of the tea, I can feel, more than see, Spike beside me, twitching, eager to get away, but he’s realistic, breakfast’s over and he knows the post mortem has to happen. He’s not happy about it, but he’s here and that’s all that matters to me.

I slide my hand across onto his leg and start to tiptoe fingers up his thigh, teasing lightly as I go, but a low growl stops me in my tracks and I risk a glance over to see him watching me, his eyes slightly tinged with yellow. “Careful, pet. Isn’t nice to tease the animals. Little boy might get bitten. Wouldn’t want that that to happen in front of the other kiddies, would you? Have a bit of a public rerun of last night?” The eyebrow is up again and there’s a slight twitch in his lips as he tries for threatening, but I know he’s teasing, although I wouldn’t put it past him to try something right here in Giles’ apartment, just for the shock value.

I’m aware of the girls watching, but after the show in the elevator yesterday, they really shouldn’t be surprised by anything we get up to. I give Spike’s thigh a quick squeeze and pull away, shaking my head in mock contrition. “No, sir. Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, sir.”

“Bloody young folk today. No respect, that’s the trouble with the world. Don’t you think, Rupes?”

Giles looks up from the book he’s been immersed in since we finished eating. “What? Oh yes…respect, very true.” He looks flustered for a moment and then seems to realise that he’s being wound up. “Although perhaps it’s not just young people who need to show a little respect. The same could be said of people who simply refuse to grow up!”

Ouch, score one for the G-man.

Buffy sighs and tosses her stake in the air, catching it one handed and looking bored by the whole exchange. She interrupts just before Spike can get started again. “Respect, youth of today, moral values, end of the world - yada, yada, yada – can we just put it on a tape or something and save everyone some breath.” It’s funny to see both Giles and Spike wearing the same affronted expression as she continues. “So, Giles, you’ve had that big brain of yours in that book for ages. You found any answers? Do we know what happened when we were doing the spell?”

Giles rubs the bridge of his nose distractedly and carefully bookmarks the page he’s at before answering. “Yes, I believe I have found the relevant passages, but I’m not sure that I’m any more comfortable now that things are clearer.”

She tosses the stake again and looks at him impatiently. “Come on, Giles, spill, it can’t be that bad, surely?”

There’s an 'Airplane' joke in there just waiting to happen, but Giles looks so serious that I figure this probably isn’t the time and wait quietly as he gathers his thoughts. “I believe we were attacked by the spirit of the first Slayer. It makes perfect sense, in a way; after all, we were drawing on our combined power to bolster the strength of Buffy, the current Slayer. I think in doing that, we somehow accessed the power of the Slayer line – by becoming Buffy for that short period of time, we became one with the Slayer line for the same period.” There’s a wave of general incoherent murmuring in the room, but no one actually interrupts Giles as he continues. “But the power saw us as invaders, as a virus, you might say, and therefore tried to kill off the source of the infection.”

Now that’s an image I really didn’t need. “Gee thanks, Giles, I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but ‘infection’ is definitely a new one.”

Willow’s been pretty quiet since the initial greetings when we first came in. She’s been listening to the conversation and watching everyone, absorbing the scene, but now I notice she’s staring at Giles as he touts his theory. “So why Buffy? I can understand the idea of the power seeing us as alien, but why did she go after Buffy?”

I watch Giles gearing himself up to expound on the rest of his theory, but Buffy stops him dead in his tracks. “Because I was the way in. The way you all accessed the power. She probably saw it as some sort of betrayal on my part. What do you think, Giles?” She looks at Giles intently, but it’s clear she really doesn’t need the confirmation – she’s the Slayer, she’s the only one who can really understand the nature of her power, despite everything the Council would have her believe.

Giles has a faint smile on his face as he watches her, acknowledgement of the redundancy of his answer, but he plays his part anyway. “I do believe you could be right, Buffy. She couldn’t kill you because to go back to the virus analogy, like can’t kill like.”

“I’m with Xander, with the whole stopping the creepy infection comparisons, but I think there’s more to it than us both being Slayers. She was alone and I wasn’t. I had you guys still in my head after we beat Adam. That’s why I won. That’s why I’ve always won.”

Willow hauls herself out of her chair and moves across to give Buffy a hug. “Team Slayer, it’s kind of catchy. Maybe we should get T-shirts printed, or something!”

I haven’t seen Willow that animated in a while and it’s nice to see, but somehow it makes my own news even more difficult because I know I’m going to make her miserable when I tell her that I’m leaving. I suppose I could put it off for another day, but it’s just postponing the inevitable and I swore to myself once Adam was sorted that I’d be brave and just get it over with. I’m just wondering how to approach things when I realise Spike is talking. “Yeah, and maybe we can sit around the campfire, toasting marshmallows and singing bloody Kumbaya.” That’s my Spike, always on hand with a witty comment right when you don’t need it.

Willow scowls at him, her brightness of a moment ago, disappearing like it never existed. I really wish they could stop sniping at each other, but I know it’s just a pipe dream. I take a breath, ready to jump in with the proverbial oil for troubled waters, but before I can intervene, Riley steps up to the plate. “So, Spike, now that we’ve answered one burning question, what about another? Did you tell Xander what happened after we released the non hostiles?”

Riley’s not said a word since we arrived at Giles', contenting himself to sit in the background and watch and I’d almost forgotten he was there ‘til he spoke. From the look on Spike’s face, he’s not very happy with the question. “Was a bit too busy last night to be going over old ground. Did my good deed for the day, don’t have to go blowing a trumpet about it. Had other things I’d rather be blowing, yeah?”

Probably not the best thing to say to the upstanding heterosexual soldier. “Right, because you’re such a modest guy. I don’t suppose you told him about our tactical retreat?”

Spike pulls out a cigarette and lights it, not answering ‘til he’s taken a few long pulls. It’s such an obvious stalling tactic that unease starts to curl at the bottom of my belly, but I take a breath and wait to hear what Spike’s got to say. “We got out, that’s all that counts.”

Even to my ears Spike sound petulant and now I’m really getting worried and want to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is going on. “What about the retreat? You said some of the nastier demons got loose? That you had to run?” I look from Spike to Riley and the tension between them is almost tangible. “What’s going on?”

Spike takes another long pull, blowing out the smoke in Riley’s direction before he turns and faces me, ignoring the rest of the room. “What the soldier’s trying to say is that the demons got out because I released them.”

Okay, wasn’t expecting that one. “Why?”

“We ran into a patrol. Didn’t have anywhere to hide. Just had a load of empty glass and metal boxes at our back and no real legitimate reason for being there. The plan about me getting escorted to other lab by the soldier fell apart as soon as someone poked it with a stick, just like I knew it would. So we ran and I released the nasties into the path of the patrol to buy us some time.”

There’s a gasp from somewhere to my left and as I glance over Willow is looking horrified, Buffy is grim faced but concentrated on Spike and Giles just looks resigned. I don’t look at Riley and turn back to focus on the man I’m in love with. “Was there any other way?”

“Not that I could figure, love. If we’d got caught, wouldn’t have been long before the Initiative cottoned on to the rest of you being there. Imagine how much fun the white coats would have had with a Slayer, a witch, a watcher and a vampire’s human lover. Walsh might be dead, but I’m sure there’s a pile of wanabees just panting for the chance to prove themselves. Wasn’t going to risk giving them another pile of lab rats. Like I told the soldier boy, in war you use the tools you’ve got to hand.”

I sit for a moment working things through in my head and then look at Spike and nod and I swear I see something like relief flicker across his face before the cocky mask comes back down. I turn round and look at Riley. “I guess I understand why you needed me know, but did you think I’d be shocked? Did you think I’d back away?” I look round at the whole gang, at the range of expressions, from sadness to disgust to resignation. “I think you forget sometimes – Spike’s a demon. He’s also a person and a lover and, occasionally, an annoying pain in the ass.”

“Oi, I resent that.”

I should have known he couldn’t keep quiet. “Blondie, can you keep your mouth shut for once? I’m trying to be all adult here and you’re really not helping things.”

He stares at me for a moment, as if he’s gauging my mood, before finally nodding and taking another drag on his cigarette. I watch him for a few moments more before turning back to the others. “Like I was saying - underlying everything else, Spike’s a demon. I struggled with that for a bit on the road trip, but I’ve come to terms with it. It doesn’t mean I’m happy with what happened yesterday, but one thing I know is that he’ll do anything to protect the folk he cares about – even if it means doing something stupid like letting me go it alone on my trip and then following me at a distance. Even it means hurting someone else to protect me, or anyone else he’s loyal to.”

Riley stares at me, confusion almost oozing out of him. “So, you’re okay with it?”

I shake my head, willing him to understand. “No, I’m not okay with it. But I do understand it. It’s funny; you and Spike were almost beginning to get along. You were reacting to his human side, but at the same time you supported the removal of his chip as a strategic necessity, so you recognised that the demon side had a place in the grand scheme of things, even if it was just enlightened self interest. You can’t have it both ways, Riley. I’m not pointing the finger because god knows I used to be in the ‘all demons bad’ camp, but someone forced me to take a step to the right and the view was kind of different. You’re half way there by leaving the Initiative voluntarily and going to the Pockla to get your own chip removed. You’re in a sort of no-man’s land at the moment, so you need to decide if you can take the final step to the right.”

There’s silence in the room, broken only by the clink of china as Giles sets his cup and saucer down carefully on a side table. Buffy is staring at her feet, lost in thought, and Willow is looking from me to Spike to Riley and back again like she can’t decide who’s right and who’s wrong. She keeps opening her mouth to say something, then shutting it again as if she’s confused by Giles and Buffy’s silence. That’s the trouble with my Wills, if someone is right, someone else has to be wrong and I hope that college will finally teach her about ambiguity and shades of grey.

I feel a hand rubbing circles at the base of my spine and I don’t need to turn round to absorb the support that’s coming from the simple movement. I can see Riley watching us, and then he stands up abruptly and looks at Buffy. “I need to go. I’m sorry, but I need to go away for a while. To sort out my life now that I’m not in the Initiative.” Buffy looks as if she wants to protest but then her shoulders sag slightly and she nods, a strained smile on her face. Riley strides to the door, still so much the soldier, and then turns back and looks at Buffy intensely. “I hope I’ll be back before long. That’s if I’m welcome?”

Buffy smiles again and all of a sudden she’s not the Slayer, she’s just a 19 year old girl with a crush. “Of course you’ll be welcome. We should talk.”

“I’d like that.” I almost expect him to salute, but he just glances round the room, his eyes resting on Spike for a moment. “Spike, I understand what Xander’s saying, but I still think you were wrong.”

“I know you do. That’s why you’d be dead now if you’d been on your own, and why you’re alive because you weren’t. In the end, sometimes it’s that simple.” Riley stares at him for a moment longer and then opens the door and is gone. Now it’s just back to the core, and I know I have to seize the moment and speak up, or it’s never going to happen.

“Guys, there’s something I need to say. I wasn’t sure how to say it, but with Riley making his grand exit there, this seems as good a time as any, although you’ll probably say my timing sucks. Riley’s not the only one who’s leaving. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but the whole Adam thing blew up so it didn’t seem important. But now that’s all settled I can’t, in conscience, put it off any longer.”

  
Buffy looks over at me, questioningly. “Okay, so the whole ‘leaving’ word is pretty ambiguous, so you’ll need to vague that up for the blondes in the audience. Are you going away to school, ‘cause you could totally do that, or are you going on another road trip? Please don’t go on another road trip, I don’t think I can look the mail man in the face if I get another batch of tacky postcards. Anyway, you can’t being going on another trip, you must be getting low on cash by now, with all the high living you’ve been doing in motels lately. You’re not going to be sleeping in your car, are you, because so not with the safe, apart from the whole comfort issue?”

I can’t help grinning at her. She can act like such an air head at times, but she’s as practical as they come when it comes to the comforts in life. “It’s definitely not school, Buff and it’s not a road trip either. It’s a permanent move. Well, as permanent as anything is in life. I made some contacts while I was away. There’s a job opening in San Francisco. It’s not much, just bar tending, but it’s a start. I want to get into construction, but you have to be there on the ground when the positions come up, so the bar job will give me some cash while I wait for something to happen.”

Willow’s been quiet again through the whole conversation with Riley, which surprised me, but I knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue now. “There are bar jobs here. There are construction jobs here. You’ve got an interview lined up for one, what happened to that? I don’t understand why you need to leave.”

“Wills, I had an interview lined up here, but that was two weeks ago, and I had to blow it off because the Initiative got in the way. Don’t you see, that’s the root of the problem? I’m never going to get settled because something Hellmouthy will always get in the way. You and Buff are doing the college thing and you know that’s not me. I need to get away and do something with my life and this is the start. I need you to understand, please?”

There’s a fleeting look of comprehension in her eyes, but then she looks across at Spike and I can almost see her gather up her prejudice for one last ditch attempt to keep things the way she thinks they should be. “Is he going with you?”

“If by ‘he’ you mean Spike, then yes, he’s going with me. If he wants to.”

“Always want to, pet.”

Spike’s still got the stub of a cigarette dangling from one white hand, but he moves the other one ‘til it lies across my thigh, stroking his thumb across soft denim and I see Willow watching the movement, almost mesmerised, before jerking her head back up to look at me. “So you’re going to choose him over us?”

I’ve lost count how many times we’ve had a version of this conversation, but this is the final play and if she won’t listen this time, I’ve no idea what to do. “There is no choosing, Willow. You’re the only one forcing this to be an issue. It’s about choice, not about choosing. As far as I’m concerned there are no sides in this. You’re my friends and this is my life. I didn’t think you’d chosen to leave me behind when you went to college. It’s what you wanted to do, what you were meant to do, and that’s great. Now it’s time for me to find out what I was meant to do. I learned a lot of things on my trip. I learned a lot about me and I’m kind of okay with that. I’m not the biggest brain in the world, I leave that kind of heavy lifting to you and Giles and the actual heavy lifting to Buffy, but I know that I’ll never have a life of my own if I stay here.”

It’s like I can see inside her head and in a way, we’ve known each other for so long I almost can. She’s obviously struggling with herself – the sensible part acknowledging what I’m trying to say, but the scared little girl who’s terrified of change is screaming at the top of her voice. I take a deep breath and try again. “Willow, when we did the spell you were in my head, just like I was in yours. Your Tara, she’s beautiful, I’m really happy for you. I wish I had time to meet her. I’d like us to have been friends.” She blushes but there’s a shy smile dancing on her lips and I know she’s pleased to get a seal of approval. Sometimes, with all her smarts, she can still be so vulnerable. “When you were in my head, Willow, what did you see?”

The smile has gone, and she’s got a real deer in the headlights look, like she’s just seen the trap she’s walked into. I didn’t mean it to be a trap, but I need her to be honest with me if our friendship has any chance of survival. “Please Wills, tell me what you saw?”

She sighs; studying her toes as if might offer the answer to the question. I know my Wills, and I know that she wants to tell the truth as she wants it to be and in her book that’s not really telling lies. But in the end we have too much history between us for her to hide behind anything but the real deal and when she starts to speak her voice is so quiet that I struggle to hear what she’s saying. “I saw…I saw you happy. I saw you and Spike, the way you feel about him, the way he looks at you.”

“And what did that tell you?”

Her head comes up and there’s a flush of red on her cheeks that’s got nothing to do with the blush when I mentioned Tara before. “It told me that you’re in love. That your relationship with Spike is real and that he loves you back.”

“And that’s good, isn’t it? Don’t you want me to be happy?”

She looks angry that I would even ask the question. “Of course I want you to be happy. You’re my best friend. But… but that’s the problem – you’re my best friend, you’ve always been in my life and I’ve been in yours. When I was in your head all I could see was Spike. Me, Buffy, Giles, we were in the background, but it was like being behind the tall guy at the football game – I couldn’t see the rest of us clearly because Spike was always in the way, and I hate it. I’m sorry, but I hate it.”

And there it is – all her fear and anxiety flopping and twisting in the open air and I can’t help feeling guilty for forcing her to say it. “I’m sorry. I guess love is all consuming when it’s new. I’ve never felt like this before.” I see her flinch and realise that I couldn’t have hurt her any more if I’d planned what I was going to say. “I’d never deliberately ignore you or Buffy or Giles. You all mean so much to me, but the love I’ve got for you is different from what I feel for Spike and I can’t help that.”

I’m at a loss for what to say now and I lose myself for a moment watching Spike’s long cool fingers stroking my leg gently. Eventually I look up and catch Buffy’s eye. She was in my head as well, she knows how I feel and I trust her to understand. She looks at me sadly and then stands and walks across to Willow. “Wills, I think you and Xander could go round in circles on this. I’m sad that he’s leaving too. God knows I don’t want him to go and if I thought tying him up and keeping him in the basement would do the job, I’d do it in a heartbeat, but where would that leave our friendship, if that’s the only way we could get him to stay? He’s got his life to lead and we’ve got ours. San Francisco isn’t that far away, so we can visit. And I’m sure he’ll be back from time to time to check up on us all.”

“You can count on it, Buff.”

I watch Buffy take hold of Willow’s hand and push her gently down into one of Giles armchairs. She looks so lost as she pulls her legs up to her chest and curls up in as small a ball as she can. Buffy looks up at me and then jerks her head towards the door and I get the message.

I glance at Giles and he smiles tiredly and nods. I don’t know what I would have done without Giles, in these past couple of weeks. I just hope he knows how I feel, because I’m scared I’m never going to get the chance to tell him. “Right, I guess we’ll be going. I’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

Spike pushes himself up and takes hold of my hand, like he’s worried that he’ll lose me if he lets go. “Watcher, Slayer, like my boy said, we’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll probably not leave ‘til about sundown. Old habits and all that shite.”

I want to go to Willow, to try one more time, but I catch Buffy’s eye and she shakes her head again and I follow Spike towards the door. He turns the handle, pulling the heavy wood back and for a moment I resist the tug on my arm and pause, taking in the scene – Giles apartment, heavy with the smell of old paper, tea and the sweet, peaty scent of decent malt. Giles himself, writer, scholar, Watcher, father figure, someone with a past, and a future still to be written. Buffy, so bright, so beautiful, so full of grace and deadly skill, so grown up now, but still sometimes the 16 year old girl I fell in love with. And Willow, my Willow, genius, budding wicca, kindergarten ally, girl on the verge of the adventure of being a woman, but as I watch her curled in the chair I can only see a small girl, the long red plaits in her hair lying heavy over her shoulder, crying over a broken crayon. I record the scene in my memory, trying to capture the moment before it slips away and as Spike tugs again at my hand, I take one last look and as I walk through the door I realise that this time I can’t fix things. This time, Willow will have to do it for herself.


	30. Realisations 29: Free Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to leave Sunnydale

_  
**Realisations 29: Free Falling**   
_   


There are times when I wonder what would have happened if Spike hadn’t come back to Sunnydale? If he hadn’t needed to settle his debts? Thinking about it, with all I know now, the idea of Spike settling any of his gambling debts is so damn ludicrous that I should laugh myself silly at the thought, though maybe I should have half a dozen kittens in reserve, just in case. Some other types of debts are another matter, because, god knows, the vamp has his own code of honour, however twisted it appears to anyone else. But if he hadn’t been in Sunnydale before graduation, he’d never have seen me and Willow sneaking around and me breaking up with Cordy. He’d never have caught me after my run in with Faith and talked about his problems with Dru. He’d never have sent me postcards.

Would Graduation have ended differently without him coaching me on fighting and strategy and how to move to the sound of the Clash? I really don’t know, it’s all ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ and ‘might have beens’. I only know that all these things did happen and I’m glad that they did. Whether it was part of the grand cosmic plan or one crazy vamp deciding to screw with the system – it doesn’t really matter, the end result is the same – Spike and me, me and Spike, we sound right together. Now that I’ve found something worth holding onto, I’m damned if I’m gong to give it up without a fight.

We fit, the two of us. That’s what I can't get Wills to understand. Willow needs to be loved, but Spike and me, we love to be needed, and finally we’ve both found someone who understands that and can match the need with the same amount of love.

Whatever happens next, whatever’s coming, I’ll always know that I’ve loved completely and been loved in the same way. In the end, how can anything else compare?

  
************************

  
I’m watching my boy. He’s sprawled out on the bed, all long legs and fuck me posture. He’s got both pillows and a couple of grotty cushions piled up under and around his head like he’s trying for some sort of cut price Arabian Nights look, but his eyes are unfocused, staring at the ceiling and he could be on another planet for all the notice he’s paying to his surroundings. I suppose it’s a demonstration of how much I’ve changed that I don’t just haul him towards me and demand his attention before shagging him silly. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy that, but he’s had enough folk snapping their fingers and expecting him to jump like it’s their right. I swore I wouldn’t do that to him. Mind you, even when I’m being all considerate, there’s nothing to say I can’t have a bit of fun.

Easing down onto the edge of the bed, I start to run a finger down the edge of one bare foot. His toes twitch slightly, but there’s no other sign of life, so I up the ante and draw my thumbnail along the bottom of his instep – back and forth, soft then hard, quick then slow. I’m mesmerised by the fleeting groove of white etched into lightly tanned skin as my nail presses deeper into tender flesh. It’s almost hypnotic and I lose myself for a moment in the texture and touch of his skin, in the heat and the strength in that one small area.

His foot arches suddenly, like it’s luxuriating in the sensations, independent from the rest of his body. I look up to find brown eyes watching me. “You finished molesting my extremities, blondie?”

“Perhaps. Maybe I’ll start on the other one? Or maybe I’ll find another extremity to play with.”

That gets a grin, and then he goes back to staring at my hand, still resting against the arch of his foot. “I used to wonder about foot fetishes, but I’m beginning to see the attraction.”

“Yeah, well, that’s me, pet. Attractive as hell and twice as hot.”

The grin is accompanied by a roll of the eyes. “Modest as well.”

“Don’t see the point. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

Finally there’s a snort which turns into stifled fit of coughing. “And you’re all about the flaunting!”

I move my hand up to grasp his ankle, squeezing just hard enough to remind him of my strength and then run my thumb gently over the knot of bone. “Don’t know how to be anything else, love. Once maybe, but not now.”

The grin disappears and I could kick myself. Bugger; I didn’t mean to get all serious. There’s a look that’s half way between concern and compassion on his face. “I know. I don’t want you to change. I just want you to be you, that’s all I’ll ever ask.”

My thumb stops moving for a moment as I consider the implications of the trust he’s putting in me, then I start the movement again, soft and slow. “Well that’s what you’ll get. Good job we’re on the same page, yeah?”

He smiles and I take my cue to ease my hand up his leg, feeling strong muscles through the worn denim. Inch by inch, fingers dance closer and closer to the prize and he lies there, half raised on his elbows, watching me as I reach his fly. I can feel him, he’s half hard, getting harder by the second and I bear down with the heel of my hand on the zip of his jeans, pressing metal against skin and his hips buck under my touch.

“Such a sensitive thing aren’t you? You’ve come a long way from those early lessons and you’ve learned so much.” I press down again, varying the pressure, building the sensation, ‘til his breath is quick and heavy and he’s arching into my touch, desperate for the contact. “Got so much still to teach you, love. Got so many things to show you. So many sensations to lose yourself in. But you won’t get lost, ‘cause you know I’ll be right there with you.” I can feel him, so hard now, his cock straining against the confines of its prison as I continue to tease and touch and tantalise. “Such a beautiful sight, all laid out for me. So open and trusting. Could watch you like this all day and never get tired.” His eyes are almost black now, and he’s half off the bed, pushing his hips up towards me, silently begging for more and I finally take pity on him and slide down the zip, tooth by tooth, drawing out the anticipation and the agony. Finally he’s free and I ease the top of the jeans slightly down his hips to give me room to work. “You’re mine, love. Going to keep you. Going to watch you grow. Going to make you happy.”

“Spike…” His voice is soft and breathy like he hasn’t got the words to express what he wants to say.

“That’s right, love. Let Spike take care of you.” One hand slides down and starts to caress his balls, first one then the other and then I lower my head and blow gently across the crown of his cock and get a full body shudder as a reward. “So responsive, pet.” I take one quick kitty lick and then another before taking him in and swallow, revelling in his taste and the texture of his skin. I’m breathing him in, inhaling the scent and absorbing the sounds he’s making, feeling every vibration as it runs through his body and into my mouth. My tongue maps every inch of flesh it can reach and he’s so close now, I can feel his balls, tight and heavy in my hand. I suck hard and it’s all the permission he needs as his whole body quivers and he falls into the abyss. I swallow again, taking a part of him into me – my boy, my man, and I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so beautiful in my entire unlife.

“Wow!”

He’s sprawled out, boneless on the crappy bed, the sheets and comforter twisted under him. He’s got his eyes closed but there’s a stupid grin on his face and I reckon there’s no harm in a little teasing. “Going to have to get your thesaurus out, pet. You’ve used that one before.”

He opens one eye and then the other before blinking at me owlishly, but if anything, the grin just gets bigger as he watches me. “You’d rather I didn’t say it was ‘wow’. I could do that if you want?”

His eyes are brimming with laughter and I lean over him and swot the side of his head lightly. “Git!”

“Now who’s the one who need the thesaurus!”

I’m just choosing from a couple of possible, devastatingly witty retorts when he pushes himself up ‘til he’s kneeling on the bed and before I can say anything he’s got one strong arm around my waist and the other slipped around the back of my head as he dives in for a kiss. What a kiss. Long and hot and sweet, taking possession of my mouth, relearning every contour and crevice. I taught him this, but now he’s turning the tables and it’s so bloody good that I’m happy to go with the flow. Pity he needs to breathe, ‘cause I could stay like this forever.

  
**************

I’m kissing Spike. Tasting him, trying to put every ounce of what I feel into one long moment. I want it to go on forever, but breath is still an issue and just as I pull back, gasping, and press my forehead to his, savouring the moment, there’s a loud knock at the door and we groan in tandem. Without even opening the door, I know it’s Buffy from the sheer force of the blow. Either that or we’ve got a pissed off Fyarl on our tail. “I suppose it could have been worse. She could have arrived five minutes ago.” He snorts and I look down at my open jeans and the mess the bed is in and then look back at Spike pleadingly. “Can you answer it, please? Give me some time to get a bit more respectable. I’m not exactly fit for company right now.”

“You think I am?”

I rub my eyes, trying to get them to focus and then stare down at his erection, outlined in tight jeans. “Good point. Oh hell, if they get an eyeful, it’s their own fault for interrupting us.” I wipe myself down with the corner of the stained bed cover before hauling my jeans back to a more respectable position and close my zip. I glance across at Spike as I try to smooth down my hair and he’s watching me with that amused smile he wears when he thinks I’m doing something particularly human. I think about calling him on it, but there’s another round of banging on the door, so I take a breath and move forward, turning the handle before the thin chipboard gives way under the force of the blows.

I was right, it’s Buffy, with Giles at her back, looking around him like he’s waiting for someone to come and see who on earth was making such a racket. He looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up, but there’s no escape from the force of ‘Hurricane Buffy’. “What the hell took you so long? It’s not like it’s more than five paces from one end of the room to the other.” She pauses for a moment and stares at us, actually taking in the scene – rumpled clothes, messed up hair, bedclothes in a knotted heap half on and off the bed behind us. I glance sideways at Spike, he’s doing the eyebrow thing and I watch Buffy blush as the penny drops. “Oh… Okay, forget I asked. I really don’t want to know.” She turns and scowls at Giles who’s desperately trying not to look at her as he struggles to keep a straight face. “Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side, mister. Can’t you get all stern and Watchery with them? Tell them to control themselves, at least ‘til they get out of town?”

That gets a full on laugh, before it turns into a cough, and then he looks at her seriously. “I’m sure that will do the trick, Buffy. I’ll see if I can find some Council headed notepaper to add suitable gravitas to the proceedings.”

She’s got her hands on her hips now, never a good sign, but there’s a sparkle in her eye, so I guess she’s up for the game. “I get the feeling you’re not taking me seriously, Giles. Does anyone else get the feeling he’s not taking me seriously?”

She’s eyeing us both sternly and I wave for Spike to go first while I think of something suitable to say. “Don’t know what you mean, Slayer. Order like that, worth its weight in gold. Would have everyone jumping to attention.”

Okay, now it’s my turn. “Yeah, Buff, why do you think we’re getting out of town? We’re being run out by the sheriff here, before we corrupt any minors.”

She’s fighting not to laugh; the mask is cracking but she makes one final valiant attempt. “Right! Enough already! I’m being serious here.”

“I never think you’re anything else, Buff.” Okay, from the expression on her face, she obviously didn’t like being called serious, so I try a bit of diversion. “So, what brings you both to our salubrious abode? I though you were swinging by later to do the fond farewells and make sure Spike actually leaves.”

Spike folds his arms and looks at me indignantly, but Buffy is talking again before he can get started. “Yeah, well about that – we’ve had to up the timetable a bit. Seems there’s some possible sacrifice, maybe happening at Kingman’s Bluff. Oh, and if it’s one of the supposedly harmless demons you let out of the Initiative I’m so coming down to San Francisco to kick your butt. I hate it with when something you think is all fluffy and cute starts with the whole conquering the Hellmouth shtick. It gets really old after a while.”

She pauses, her nose wrinkling like she’s genuinely upset when demons don’t live up to expectation. It’s all part of the weirdness of living on the Hellmouth. “Hmm, Buffy, sacrifice, remember? What’s the what?”

"Oh yeah, where did I get to? The books are all a bit vague, so nothing new there, and we thought it wasn’t happening ‘til later, but Giles just realised that whatever funky star alignment the prophecy is droning on about actually refers to stuff on the other side of the world or something.”

Giles rolls his eyes and interrupts before things get even more confusing. “What Buffy is trying to say is that there is a particular alignment of stars that happens very rarely over Ayres Rock and it provides a powerful focal point for mystical energy which can be harnessed anywhere in the world if you have the right combination of spells. Fortunately the spells themselves are extremely arcane, so this convergence is rarely a problem, which is why I didn’t think of it immediately, but better to be safe than sorry.”

Okay, that’s a new one. “Wow, so you’ve got demons in touch with their inner Australian. It’s kind of cool in a whole ‘claws across the globe’ kind of a way.”

Spike just snorts and looks across at Giles. “America, Australia - one colony, just the same as another, ain’t that right, Rupes?”

“Well I’m sure our Australian cousins would be delighted with such a sweeping statement. I must remember to bring it up the next time we’re losing to them at cricket.”

“Umm, would you both mind having the weird English games conversation some other time? I was trying to explain what’s happening and it would go a lot quicker if I didn’t get interrupted.” She glares at us all and we all look at our toes for a moment, trying not to grin at the intimidating five foot blonde. “Right then, we’ve got about an hour to get up there and I’m not sure how long it would take to get with the Slaying. To be honest, I was scared you’d be gone by the time we got back, so that’s why we’re here!” She pauses for breath and all of a sudden the glare from a moment before has gone and she launches herself forward, enveloping me in a Slayer strength hug. “I’ll miss you so much. You promise to write and phone and keep in touch?”

I hug back, just as desperately if not as hard. “Try and stop me. San Francisco isn’t that far. Like you said, you can visit. And I’ll be back to check on things, I promise.”

I extricate myself from her embrace and she moves in front of Spike. His expression is solemn, or as solemn as Spike gets, and he waits for her to make the first move. “Take care of him. Make him happy.” From Spike’s expression I think he was expecting more – like threats and shovels and all the usual stuff in the Scooby dating arsenal.

“I’ll do my best.”

She stares at him for a moment longer, like she’s measuring the strength of his answer, then she smiles briefly and moves back to stand alongside Giles. No one’s mentioned Willow, but I know I’ll have to let Giles have his say before I can ask the question. “So Giles, is this where I get the talk about not going into dark alleys with strange men?”

“I think it’s a trifle late for that, Xander. However, I will echo Buffy. You will be missed and will always have a place here, please remember that. If things don’t work out, for any reason, I do expect you to call, understand?”

“I understand, Giles. I appreciate it. And thank you for being here these last few weeks. You know I’m not good with words, so I can’t really tell you what it’s meant to me.”

“Just stay safe and I will consider myself adequately repaid.” He grasps my hand firmly and I get a strong manly handshake, but just as I’m about to let go, he pulls me into a brief hard hug and murmurs in my ear. “Remember, phone any time.” I can only nod and blush slightly as he withdraws. I know Spike will have heard, despite the whisper, but as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, he just rolls his eyes and watches as Giles looks in his direction. “I’ve already made it clear what the consequences of you hurting him will be. I don’t believe it needs to be repeated. Please remember, Spike – we’re trusting you, Buffy and I. I don’t think I really understood your relationship fully until the spell, but he really does love you and he trusts you. I suppose we must do the same. Don’t make us regret it.”

“Not going to hurt him, Rupert. But like I said before, I won’t stand by and let anyone else hurt him either.”

Okay, so that’s my cue to ask the question everyone’s been waiting for, but no one really wants me to ask. “Where’s Willow? Has she gone ahead to the Bluff to do the witchy preparation?” I know the answer’s no, but something inside me is still looking for a good way for this to end.

Buffy and Giles look at each other, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing, but then Buffy puts on her brightest smile. “Willow says hi and good luck and sends her love. She couldn’t come out because she’s studying for a test. Umm, a really important, very hard test.”

“Oh, right. Well, that’s Wills all over. She’s all about the studying. She can’t be too careful with these tests, they can be tricky, sneaking up on you when you least suspect it. Give her my love and wish her luck with the pop quiz, not that she’ll need it or anything.”

She smiles again, even brighter this time, obviously hating to be put in such a crap position, but desperately trying to salvage something for the wreckage. “Of course I will.”

There’s nothing more to be said and it’s not fair to prolong the moment any further. “You’d better get going. Don’t want to be responsible for some gory sacrifice just because you were here being all mushy with me.”

Giles pulls his car keys from his pocket and touches Buffy briefly on the arm. “Xander’s right, we need to go, but I do have one last question for Spike. Do you still have the Gem?”

“Damn right I do and I’m keeping it. Can’t protect him if I can only get out and about for half the day.”

I want to protest that I don’t need babysitting, but I can see the relief in Giles’ face, so I hold my tongue. “Good. Make sure you make appropriate use of it. Now we really must go, Buffy.”

“Okay.” She rushes forward again, moving so quickly I hardly see her until she’s wrapped around me and I breath in her scent and kiss the top of her head before she lets go.

I’ve got a weird déjà vu of the last time I left Sunnydale. Of the gang going off to rescue someone from a non-existent sacrifice because Spike had laid a trail of breadcrumbs to allow us to get away without a big scene. I remember offering to help with the hunt and being turned down. I know if I offer now, the same thing will happen, but I’ve got to go through the motions. “Buffy, do you...”

I don’t get any further before she shakes her head and smiles. “No, we’ll be fine. We’ll go in, beat up the bad guy, save the swooning innocent and then go back and have tea and scones at Giles'. Just another night on the Hellmouth. It’s a job, remember, like any other. And you’ve got a job waiting in San Francisco, so you need to get going, or they might give it to someone else.”

“Okay. Stay safe and don’t get killed. Tell Wills that I love her.”

She nods again and then follows Giles back to the car and gets in and as the car door slams, I feel like it’s closing on a chapter of my life.

I watch and listen until the roar of Giles’ old Citroen is a muffled sound in the distance and then sigh. Spike snakes his hand around my waist, pulling me back ‘til I’m pressed up against his chest and for a moment I stand there, silent, just wallowing in his strength. “She hates me, doesn’t she? I’ve hurt her so much and I didn’t mean to. I just wanted her to understand.”

“She doesn’t hate you, pet. She maybe hates herself right now. She does understand, deep down, and that’s part of the problem. She was in your head and she didn’t like what she found. Now she’s confused, going through a lot of changes of her own and you were the one thing she could always rely on to be there. She doesn’t know what to think, or feel, and she’s terrified.”

I bring my hands up to rest on the arm round my waist, stroking across the cool flesh and finding comfort in such a simple action. “You’re being all mature and insightful tonight?”

His arm squeezes tighter around my waist, like he thinks I’m going to blow away if he doesn’t hold on. “Also think she’s being a selfish bitch who needs a good slap, but that doesn’t mean anything other than she’s human. She’ll come round.”

“And if she doesn’t?” I know I sound pathetic, but I can’t help it.

“Nothing you can do about that, love. You’ve done all you can, and then some. It’s got nothing to do with you and me, or even you leaving the Hellmouth. This road was set, way back when you two were sneaking around behind everyone's backs. Before you and the cheerleader imploded.”

I push against his arm and he allows me enough latitude to turn around and face him, but he doesn’t let go. “Hey, we didn’t implode. There was a mutual parting of the ways.”

“I was there, pet. Saw the cheerleader throw all your pictures out of her bedroom window. I also saw you and the witch when you parted company. You said that you couldn’t be her insurance against being alone. This latest episode is just the same thing in a different flavour. She got over it then, she’ll get over it now. Just give it some time, yeah?

“And talking of time, pet. It’s time for you and me to get on the road. Slayer’s said all the tearful goodbyes. Wouldn’t exactly be fair to still be here when she gets back and make her do them all again.”

“And you’re really worried about Buffy’s feelings!”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s really thinking about his answer, then the familiar wicked grin appears. “Okay, I’m not, but she’s the Slayer, and I’ve got more important things to think about right now than getting into a pissing contest with her.”

That’s my vamp, always with the priorities. “Afraid you might get your ass kicked?”

“Nope, but I think you’d be kind of upset if I damaged her, and when the hell did I turn into such a ponce?”

Now that’s just begging for a smart answer. “Right around the time you started sending me postcards. I thought you were just scary stalker vamp back then. I wasn’t really good with the subtext, but I’m getting better.”

“Definitely getting better, love. Getting better all the time.”

I’m still standing in the circle of his arms and I lean back slightly, knowing that his hold on me is strong. “Don’t worry though. You’re still the fox and you’ll always be one step ahead.”

“Don’t you forget it, love, but I’ll never go faster than you can manage.” For a moment I think he’s going to get all mushy, then he smirks and his hands ghost down the back of my jeans and he smacks me lightly. “Now get your cute arse in gear. Got a date to keep in San Francisco. Got plans for you.”

Now that sounds like a challenge. “Yeah, well maybe I’ve got plans too.”

“Oh yeah?”

The eyebrow is back in action and I mirror the motion. “In fact I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we pool our plans?"

"Pool our plans?"

He tilts his head in the way that makes all my blood want to migrate south, but I force myself to concentrate because this is too important to screw up. “Yeah, maybe stop looking at things from our own particular point of view. It’s just a thought, but maybe instead of ‘I’, it’s time we became a ‘we’."

He slides his hands slowly up my back and as they come to rest, clasped behind my neck, I wait for his answer. “’We’, that’s a big step. You really ready to do that, love? It’s a long way to fall.”

“Show me the cliff, blondie. We can hold hands, say ‘fuck it’ and jump. We’ll worry about the parachute on the way down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/) , the best beta and best friend I could have ever hoped for. She puts up with my ramblings, cleans up my grammar, pokes holes in my logic and has talked me off a few cliffs when I wanted to twist canon in ways that it didn’t want to be twisted. The boys are pretty flexible, but even they have their limits*g* She also laughs at my jokes and tells me what bits she really likes. Thank you, love, I wouldn’t have made it without you.
> 
> There are three one-shots in this 'verse - Justifying, Justified and Watching Paint Dry. You can find them under the Perceptions 'verse tag. 


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